#it’s 2am i have nothing to say in my defense

[flowercrowngods]

cw suicide mention & imagery

original play idea where people seem to live their normal lives but the audience gets the feeling that something’s wrong, there’s a tension and there are things that obviously go unsaid that hang in the air between the characters uncomfortably long enough until the last member of the audience has filled in the blanks in their own way.

there is a figure off to the side, a very young man in a suit, watching them, unmoving and silent, and as the scenes and progress, as characters leave and appear, as the setting changes, the young man is always there. no one interacts with him, but there are moments when they almost do. when the characters stop what they’re doing when they stand close to him, and appear to listen. but there’s nothing.

the sound of TV news reports, all playing over each other, create an uncanny and uncomfortable buzzing that never, never stops, and there are too many to really make out the words. they get more silent the closer they get to the young man in the suit, quieting down to nothing when they stand by him to listen — but the characters seem unaware of the change. so does the young man, statuesque though he is.

then there’s a little girl, covered in dirt, her hair askew, her cheeks rosy — the image of having spent the day outside, playing in the dirt, a smile on her face, her eyes big, as she skips towards the young man and asks, “can we go now? can we play?”

the young man cards his hands through her hair and says, “you go ahead, i’ll be right there.”

but still he stays there, seated.

everything continues as before, but the characters slowly undergo a complete change in character, in routine, in appearance. the old man who wore suits is not dressed in sweats and old, worn out, dirty shirts. the sweet, kindhearted young adult is now quiet and apathetic. the woman who, in the beginning, was talking her friend’s ear off and could barely stand still is unmoving now, staring out into nothingness.

the buzzing and bustling background noise is slowly, gradually getting louder as the characters become increasingly nonverbal and unmoving. the lights dim down.

then all at once, after a crescendo, the noise stops suddenly, the lights turn off completely, before, with warm, yellow light, a woman we’ve seen before — as she stares into nothingness — appears on the stage, slowly approaching the young man as if unsure of her body but undeniable in her grace.

they smile at each other for a moment.

m, whispering: you’re not supposed to be here, not yet

w, cradling his cheeks: i was always supposed to be here long, long before you

m: i know. i’m sorry, i—

w: i know. i forgive you. i’ve always forgiven you

m, after a while: but not yourself

the woman shakes her head.

w: a mother will never forgive herself for burying her child, and a father will forgive himself even less. (a beat) you have such a handsome face.

m: it’s not your fault

w: so beautiful, those eyes, i’ve missed you so much

m: listen to me, it’s not your fault!

w: and your hair! papa would be so glad to know that—

m: mother. mama. listen to me. it’s not your fault

w, tearful and whispering: you were supposed to be fine. you were always supposed to be fine. it was never supposed to be this bad, we were supposed to help, but—

m: i know. i tried, i really did. both times

in that moment, the little girl comes skipping on stage again, approaching them with her wagging ponytail.

g: what are you doing here, mama? will you play with me now? it’s been so long!

the woman gasps, her tears getting the better of her as she falls to her knees and pulls the girl to her chest, who readily returns the hug

w, sobbing, kissing her cheek: hi, baby. yes, i’ll play with you, of course i will. let’s go.

the young man helps his mother up, allowing her to pull him into a hug, and she whispers: “as much as i love her with all my heart, i’m so proud of the young man you’ve grown into. and now i have you both, just as i always did.”

the young man brushes a kiss to her cheek, then lets her go, watching as his mother disappears with the little girl.

m: i have to stay a while. i’ll follow you soon.

(woman and girl, hand in hand, exeunt)

the lights dim, and the buzzing returns, accompanied by the sound of dragging footsteps the audience cannot see, until everything’s back in total darkness. the noise stays. growing louder in increments, leaving the audience uncomfortable and unsure if this was it.

as they quiet down, we hear a man, sobbing uncontrollably, before eerie silence takes his place, too.

the curtain falls.

[imaginedisish]

Graceland Too (Din Djarin x fem!Reader)

A/N: Hi everyone!!! Wowowow am I active this week LOL (fyi this is a re-upload. Decided to proofread one more time bc I uploaded at like 2AM last night). Here is a little sick fic I wrote for my friend who isn’t feeling too great (hope you’re feeling okay <3). The fic is heavily based around “Graceland Too” by Phoebe Bridgers but it is also inspired by “oh baby” by LCD Soundsystem. Highly suggest giving those a listen. Anyway, requests are open. Enjoy!

Summary: You’re terribly sick, but one night and one fever dream might just change everything for you and Din. 

Warnings: SMUT! 18+, Praise kink (imo at least), oral (f!receiving), fingering, reader is sick, Jedi!Reader (it’s like I only know how to write Din x Jedi!readers I stg), idiots/friends to lovers, pining, mentions of death/major violence (canon typical I'd say), cursing, probably some grammar stuff....that’s it I think. 

Word Count: 3,018

The wind is cold as it slices you in half, but you feel overwhelmingly hot, clammy even. Sweat dribbles down your forehead as you tread across the rocks beneath your feet. Blaster shots ring out in the distance.

You struggle to pick up your pace, your boots sticking to the ground as you try to put one foot in front of the other.

“Mando!” You call out, remembering not to use his real name.  Fog covers the ground, filling the air at an excruciatingly quick rate. You’d never be able to find him in this. You call out to him again, but there’s no answer. You’d take a grunt or even a groan at this point.

Then there’s a disembodied, brittle voice coming from behind you.

“Looking for him?” It’s grating, nasally. You’d recognize it anywhere.

You turn around frantically, practically giving yourself whiplash.

“Bo Katan.” Your voice is low, hushed. Din’s body is limp on the ground, being held up on his knees by the woman in front of you. There’s a smirk on her face. She has the darksaber in her hand…

And it’s at Din’s throat.

“Let him go,” You plead. You go to grab your lightsaber, a blaster, something, anything at your utility belt, but there’s nothing there. You have no defense, just your words. “You got what you came for, you have the darksaber.”

She scoffs, shaking her head, her smirk widening. “I haven’t finished the job yet. I still have to kill you and your Mandalorian.”

Your eyes widen with fear, blurring with tears. “No please, please don’t hurt him.” Your voice croaks as you choke back sobs.

“Too late.” She moves the darksaber from his throat, plunging it into his chest with one fatal swoop.

“DIN!” You scream, crashing down to your knees next to him.

“I’m here mesh’la…” He whispers, but it doesn’t sound like he’s next to you, he’s somewhere off in the distance. His husky voice calls out your name.

“I’m right here.” He repeats himself. Your eyes force themselves open as you shove your palms into the bed to push yourself up. You almost hit your head on the top of the bunk in the process, but Din stops you before you can, his cold, gloved hands coming up to your shoulders. “It was just a nightmare.” His voice is honeyed, gentle.

You look to your left to see him standing at your side, armor off, helmet on.

“M’sorry,” You mutter, rubbing your eyes. You feel like absolute shit, worse than yesterday. Your skin is so hot that it threatens to burn a hole in Din’s gloves. You choke down a cough, the sensation vibrating painfully against your already pounding head. “Didn’t mean to wake you.”

You had been sick for a few days now, and Din was doing everything by himself: the ship’s maintenance, the flying, the hunting, taking care of Grogu, and taking care of you. Now, to make matters worse, you had woken him up. You know he doesn’t get enough rest to begin with. You feel like a burden – and not just in this moment, always. You were a danger to yourself, to Din, to Grogu; a force wielding ex-Jedi, ex-Empire captive wanted by anyone and everyone. And yet, he had let you into his little clan of two with open arms. Now he was here, caring for you. You could’ve gone home, made a place for yourself in the New Republic, continued your Jedi training, but you didn’t.

You met Din. And you felt so, so guilty for the repercussions of your meeting.  

You part your lips, ready to usher him back to bed, to apologize again. But Din doesn’t leave room for you to protest. “Don’t apologize, please.” He shushes you, taking off a glove and pressing the back of his hand against your forehead. You hum lightly under his touch. He feels like ice against your blazingly hot skin.

“Your hand…” You trail off, struggling to speak, “feels good.”

Your hoarse voice sounds like nothing more than a set of incoherent mumblings, but Din seems to understand every syllable. He chuckles shortly and softly, as if the laugh was only meant to be heard by you. “That’s ‘cause you’re warmer now than you were yesterday.” He flips his hand over so that his palm rests against your skin. His forefingers and thumb rub gently at your temples, working tirelessly at your raging headache.

With his free hand, he reaches down for something you can’t quite see. Seconds later he’s holding two pills in front of your face. You immediately take them from him, no questions asked. Whatever it was, you’d take it. This was absolutely unbearable, and the constant fever dreams certainly didn’t help. You swallow the pills with no hesitation, and Din brings a metal cup to your lips.

“Drink,” is all he says, and you do.  You take the cup from his hands, the cold water rushing down your throat, temporarily easing the pain you feel there. Din apprehensively settles his arm on your waist. “This okay?” He asks, a slight shake in his voice. You nod in response, smiling appreciatively.

“Thank you,” You whisper, tilting your head to the side with affection. You swallow harshly, clearing your throat. “You can go back to sleep now if you want. I’ll be okay.”

But Din doesn’t flinch, he doesn’t move at all. He ignores your permission to leave completely. “What dream did you have this time?”

You shudder, remembering what you had seen just moments ago. Din instantly takes account of the look on your face, his grip on your waist tightening, stabilizing you, keeping you tethered to reality – to him.

You draw in a deep breath, practically coughing up your lungs in the process. “Bo Katan, s-she,” You stutter, your eyes shutting tightly in between words. You could still see it. It was ingrained in your brain, burnt into the grooves, sowed in between every empty space. You can still feel her. It was so real. “She had the darksaber and she…” But you can’t finish. Your vision is blurry, your surroundings morphing into an amalgamation of streaks of light and grey metallic colors. You blink and a few cool tears drip down your searing cheeks.

“Hey,” Din coos, his helmet inching closer towards your face, his hands still glued around your waist and atop your forehead. “I’ve got you now. It was just a nightmare. Nothing’s gonna hurt you, mesh’la, nothing.”

You cough out a laugh. “Nothing except a red-haired Mandalorian and whatever this fever is.”

But Din shakes his head. “Not if I can help it.” It isn’t until those words fall from his lips that you realize how close he is to you, how intimate this moment is. His armor is long gone, and you can see the outline of his muscles in his shoulders and arms, his deltoids, his triceps, underneath his flight suit.

“I would…” He trails off, a tremble obviously present in his voice. His confidence has completely disappeared. The vulnerability of the moment makes your head spin faster than it already is. You watch his chest rise and fall, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. You hear him suck in a sharp breath through his vocoder. “I would do anything for you.”

Anything. He would do anything? For you?

Your heart beats rapidly, threatening to combust against your ribs as Din’s hand on your forehead slides down to your cheek. You’ve forgotten your fever at this point, forgotten your headache, your sore throat. All you feel now is Din, his thumb grazing against your cheek, his fingers ghosting along the exposed slit of skin between the hemline of your shirt and the waistline of your shorts.

You want to keep him here, to ask him to hang on to you all night long, but you don’t know if you have the courage to ask. You close your eyes, inhaling through your nose, gathering your words before they spill from your lips. “Would you…” Your voice fades out, evaporating into silence, unable to finish your sentence.

“Anything,” Din’s modulated voice echoes against the walls of the bunk. “Say the word and it’s yours. Whatever you want, cyare.”

Fuck. He really means anything. Whatever you want.

“Would you stay…with me?” It’s a garbled, incomprehensible mess of a question, but as always, Din knows what’s on your mind better than you do.

Din nods immediately. “Of course.” It’s short, but certainly not curt. Those two words say far more than what they mean. “I have to let go of you for just a second, but I’ll be right back, I promise.” Ever the caretaker, Din Djarin. Eternally putting others before himself. It makes your heart pang in your chest, your breath catching in your throat.

He hesitates a moment before finally letting go of you, his hands brushing over your skin for a few extra seconds, stealing time that had already been borrowed. He slips deeper into the hull. You hear him press a few buttons in the distance, and then with a sudden flick, the lights of the hull go out. Darkness fills the room, and you can hear Din shuffling back towards the bunk.

There’s a click and a hiss, and then the sound of metal falling onto metal. Din had taken his helmet off. It wasn’t the first time he had done this. You occasionally found yourself in his bunk, clinging to him for warmth when you were on a particularly cold planet or when the Crest’s heating system had broken down, but it was rare.

“Should you keep it on?” You ask as Din pushes the covers of the bed down. You feel the mattress dip as he slides into the bunk. “I’m still sick, you know.” The last thing you wanted was to make Din feel the way you feel right now. You didn’t want him to get hurt. You had to protect him, too.

You don’t realize how close he is to you until you feel his breath fan across your lips. “No.” It’s a whisper, barely audible. “Wanna make you feel safe.”

“But-,”

He cuts you off. “It’s worth the risk.”

You were worth the risk.

The darkness isn’t so scary when he’s next to you. You close your eyes, listening closely to his unmodulated breaths. His arm snakes up your body, coming to rest around your waist, in the exact spot he was in before.

“Din?” You call out in the darkness. You inch forward a bit, unexpectedly bumping your nose into his. The sudden touch, the proximity, it’s all becoming too much for you to bear.

“Yes, cyare?” His voice is husky, low, rough.

You can’t even remember what it was you were going to ask him. All you can think about is how close he is, how his fingers graze over your stomach, how his breath ghosts over your cheeks, how much you want him to kiss you.

Maker, you want him to kiss you. Would he if you asked him to? Was that under the category of, anything?

“Cyare?” He’s concerned. You can hear it in the way the pet name plays on his lips, hanging around in the air longer than normal.

“I-I,” You stutter. Was now really the time to do this, to confess your feelings to Din? “I don’t know what to say.” It was true, maybe a little too true. “I just, I like you Din.”

He chuckles. Maker, it sounds so much better without his helmet. “I like you too, cyar’ika.” He’s unserious, carefree.

“No,” You mumble. You feel like a child, a padawan once again, not knowing how to communicate or to feel. “Not like that. M-more than that.” You wish you could see the look on his face, to gauge what he was feeling.

Silence takes hold of the bunk. Shit. Too much. Too much too soon. I shouldn’t have-

And then, like always, Din reads your mind. His lips come crashing down onto yours. The kiss is reckless, frenzied, deep. He molds against you, as if he was always meant to fit here. You almost regret not doing something sooner. You think, maybe you’ve wasted valuable time that you could’ve already spent with this side of him. But you know you’ve lived through everything you’ve been through, just to get to this very moment, to feel his lips taking yours, his tongue sliding along your lower lip, seeking permission to explore more of you. You part your mouth, gladly accepting his invitation.

His hand at your waist travels lower, resting along the inside of your thigh. You moan against his lips at the touch. You can feel your wetness growing between your legs, the pulsing of your core. You instinctively try to press your thighs together, searching for some sort of friction, but Din stops you, using his hand to keep your legs spread wide for him.

His fingers tread achingly slow up your inner thigh, teasing you, his nails softly scratching against your exposed skin. Din’s hand finally lands on top of your clothed cunt, his thumb tracing circles into the overly sensitive spot. You’re trembling under his touch as he presses harder into where you need him most.

“S-shit,” You mutter. “Feels s-so good.”

Din swallows harshly. “Wanna taste you, mesh’la. Bet you taste so good.” Desire coats his voice. His hand slips away from your heat and you groan at the loss of contact. He finds the waistline of your shorts, tugging a bit, searching for permission.

“Please, wanna feel you,” You whimper. And that’s all he needs. Din drags your shorts and panties down your legs. You’re not sure where they end up, but you can’t be bothered to care.

Din presses light kisses against your inner thigh, his stubble scratching lightly against your skin, until he finally reaches your core. His tongue begins to explore your folds, pushing through before finally settling on your clit.

“D-Din!” You cry out as he takes the sensitive bud into his mouth, sucking roughly. “Fuck, feels s’good.” Your words slur and your eyes blur as he laps at you.

“Tastes so good, so fucking sweet.” The vibrations of Din’s voice against your clit pushes you closer to the edge. You were already practically there.

He brings a finger to your folds, spreading your slick before sinking deep inside of you. The sensation coaxes a moan from your lips, and Din takes this as a sign to add another finger. He gives you a moment to adjust to him before pulling out and crashing back into you. He’s pushing further inside you as he takes you on his tongue. Nothing else matters, and nothing else will ever be the same.  

“Doing so good for me, sweet girl,” He soothes, his tongue swirling around your clit as his fingers thrust in and out of your entrance. “You sound so pretty when you say my name.”

“Din.” It’s a whisper, a plea. More, please, more. “Don’t stop. Fuck.” His free hand glides under your shirt, pushing your bra up and out of the way. He takes a nipple between his thumb and forefinger, pinching lightly, rolling the nub around before switching to the other. He squeezes softly, luring you closer to your breaking point.

“Taking me so good, being such a good girl,” Din groans. You throw your head back against the pillow. His words alone were enough to drive you mad. “Gonna make you come, gonna give you whatever you want, mesh’la.”

His name rolls off your tongue. You’re unsure of where it starts and where it ends, whispering it over and over again like you’re trying to commit this moment to some eternal memory.

His tongue presses harder into your clit, his fingers pumping faster, deeper inside of you. You couldn’t hold back anymore. You were right there, your walls tightening around Din’s fingers.

“Din I’m gonna-,” But it’s impossible to get the words out. You’re a bleating mess underneath him.

“That’s it, come for me, pretty girl. Wanted this for so long,” His praises, his confessions, send you over the edge, searing heat spreading across every inch of your body. “You’re so beautiful, so perfect for me.” You can feel yourself shattering under his touch, your walls fluttering around him.

“F-fuck Din,” You whimper, riding out your high. Din slowly laps at your swollen clit, his fingers gently pumping in and out of you a few more times before pulling out. You feel empty without them. “N-need more. Need to feel you.” You can’t help but beg. It wasn’t enough. You wanted all of him, needed all of him.  

“Not tonight, cyar’ika,” Din breathes as he finds his way back next to you. “Don’t wanna push you too far. You’re sick, don’t forget. I promised I wouldn’t let anything happen to you, remember?” There’s a faint laugh in his voice, a certain genuine happiness that you can’t wait to hear more of.

“Tomorrow?” You ask, shifting so that your head rests against his chest.

“As long as you’re feeling better…” He trails off for a second, mulling his words over in his head before continuing, “I’ll do anything you want me to.” You know there’s a smile tugging at his lips, you can hear it. It makes your heart flutter in your chest. “Get some rest, okay?”

You nod your head, nestling even further into him. You wrap a leg around his waist, and he follows suit by wrapping his arms around you.

“Goodnight, Din.”

“Goodnight, mesh’la.”

No longer a danger to herself or others

She made up her mind and laced up her shoes…

Said she knows she lived through it to get to this moment

Ate a sleeve of saltines on my floor, and I knew then

I would do anything you want me to

I would do anything for you

I would do anything, I would do anything

Whatever you want me to do, I will do

I will do anything (whatever you want)

Whatever she wants (whatever you want)

[sturn1olo-ffics]

“That’s The Way I Loved You”

- Chris Sturniolo x Fem Reader (she/her pronouns used)

- based off the song “The Way I Loved You” Taylor’s Version by Taylor Swift

- WARNINGS: kissing (making out ‼️), mentions of fighting/arguing, crying, break up but happy ending; NOT PROOFREAD

- ABOUT: Chris and y/n get into a huge fight over Instagram comments and she breaks up with him. A month after, y/n decides it’s time to put herself out there again. She finds a great guy, but he’s just not Chris. That’s when she realizes what she really wants.

“I miss screaming and fighting and kissing in the rain. And it’s 2am and I’m cursing your name. So in love that you act insane. And that’s the way I loved you.”

(Y/N’s POV)

I sat down on my couch after a long day and decided to open up my phone and check Instagram. My notifications were blowing up and I didn’t know why.

Chris posted a picture of you at dinner the night before with the caption: “My girl.”

You smile and feel butterflies swarm your stomach as you like the post and comment “Cringe 🤓” just joking around with him.

You check the comments, only to see hate comment after hate comment being left.

User332: “Bro she’s not even pretty”

y/nhater617: “why is he lowering his standards for her 💀”

User984: “i hope they break up soon fr”

————————————————————————————

{ iMESSAGE }

Chris: Hey you free tonight or ??

Y/n: You wanna come over?

Chris: Ok mind listener

Y/n: You mean mind reader 😭😭

Chris: Whatever. I’ll be there at 5

————————————————————————————

(Time passes)

Chris was over at my house. He was leaned up against my counter and I was sitting on the island across from him.

Scrolling through TikTok, I realize that this is a good time to tell him how I’ve been feeling about his Instagram comments.

“Hey, can we talk about something that’s been bothering me?” I said with a frown.

“Uh- yeah sure. What’s wrong?” Chris said worriedly as he stepped closer toward me.

“I just- you’re Instagram comments are always full of people hating on me… and I was just wondering if-” I started to say before he cut me off.

“Just ignore ‘em” he says in a nonchalant manner, like he didn’t care at all.

“Can you tell them to stop or at least turn your comments off?” I asked in response.

“What? No. I’m not turning my comments off on Instagram. And there’s nothing I can say that will actually get them to stop.” Chris said in a defensive, almost angry tone.

“Can you at least try?” I started to get fed up.

“Y/n. Not everything is going to be perfect just for you.” the words slipped out of his mouth.

“What?” I said, tears filling my eyes.

“Y/n, I meant that I just can’t do anything about it. What do you want me to do? Become a magic wizard and cast a spell on all these little girls to stop hating on you? Even if I could, I still wouldn’t care enough.” Chris yelled.

“Wouldn’t care enough?” I said softly, tears falling out my eyes and running down my cheeks.

“Y/n- it’s just this kinda stuff is what you have to deal with- it’s like character development. It’s a part of life- a part of my life at least-” he started to say before I slid off the counter and started to walk away.

“I’m also a part of your life. And if this is what it’s going to be like, then I don’t want to be anymore.” I said while opening up my front door, signaling him out.

“Y/n, what? You’re gonna break up with me over this?” he said quickly.

“I just can’t right now, Chris.” I responded as he walked out and I closed the door behind him.

I slid down the back of my door, salty tears rolling one after another out of my eyes.

We had gotten in fights before, screaming at each other even, but this one was final.

(ONE MONTH LATER)

I met a boy while I was at the grocery store. His name was Henry and he was really cute and seemed super sweet. We got each others numbers and started hanging out almost every day.

—————————————————————————————

{ iMESSAGE }

Henry: Hi!! I’ll pick you up at 6 if that’s okay?

Y/n: Sounds great! Can’t wait.

—————————————————————————————

But the truth is, I could wait.

He’s sensible and so incredible. And all my single friends are jealous. But something just felt off, every time we were together.

It’s been a month since me and Chris broke up, and I knew I wanted to put myself out there. So why did this superhero of a guy just not seem like enough?

I started to think about Chris more and more. Which is weird because I started to not care about the break up about a week after it happened. I always seemed to move on quickly for some reason.

I picked my phone up and shot Henry a quick text, asking him for a rain check.

It actually was pouring down raining outside, so I figured he wouldn’t question it.

I put on “10 Things I Hate About You” and plopped down on my couch with a bowl of popcorn and a Pepsi.

Pepsi was Chris’ favorite drink, and it grew on me over time as well.

“I hate it when you’re not around and the fact that you didn’t call. But mostly I hate the way I don’t hate you, not even close. Not even a little bit. Not even at all.” the TV starts to play as I tear up.

Chris.

All I could think about was Chris.

He flooded my mind.

But why?

I started to get up and make my way to the fridge to grab the container of strawberries I was craving, but noticed I had already eaten them all.

“Great.” I said to myself. I really wanted those strawberries.

There was a grocery store at the end of my street, so I knew I could just walk down there and grab some.

I gather my things in my purse, put my shoes on, and grab my umbrella because it’s practically storming.

I reached for the doorknob, but before I could grab it, 3 knocks sounded at my door.

“Bruh I asked him for a raincheck. No way Henry’s outside my door right now.” I thought to myself.

I turned the knob and opened my front door, only to find Chris standing there. Soaked head to toe from the rain.

“Hi” he said out of breath.

“Chris?” I was confused.

“I take it you’re about to go hang out with Henry” he said, turning around.

“No, actually… I cancelled on him.” I said sharply.

Chris turned around and stared at me.

“What are you doing here?” I asked him.

“I- I don’t know. One minute, I was playing Fortnite on Twitch. And the next I was putting my shoes on to come here. I think I just-” he was saying before I cut him off with a kiss.

He leaned into the kiss almost immediately. Both of us getting soaked from the rain. But we didn’t care. We just craved each other.

He pulled back and tilted his head to deepen the kiss. One hand on my waist, the other on my back pulling me impossibly closer to him.

The kiss lasted for what felt like an hour, but was really 30 seconds.

“I’ve missed you. I’ve missed us.” I said with a smile, looking into his beautiful blue eyes.

He smiled back and pulled me into a longing hug.

“How about we go inside and dry off huh?” he joked.

“That, and you need to help me figure out how to let Henry down nicely.” I laughed.

“I love you, y/n” he said pausing his footsteps.

My heart jumped. He had never said this before.

“I love you too, Chris” I said with a smile.

—————————————————————————————

A/n: Hey guys! Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed. I’m trying to make my fics better, so let me know what I could change. Also, let me know what you wanna see next.

Thank you for 80 notes on my last fic!!!

[milosirlgf]

a guy/honey drabble :3

note: this is set pre-confession! think maybe a couple weeks before the events of the valentines video :3 also, my headcanon is that honey's a wolf shifter so that might make more sense in the last couple paragraphs :3 also, i wrote the last bit at 2am, forgive me, its shit. not proofread. lowercase intended!

warnings: none! pure fluff :3

the clacking of your keyboard in the room across from his could very well have driven him insane. his eyes leaped between the image of his slightly creaked open door, and the hallway; contemplating exiting his den of serenity for the first time in what felt like years. he’d already received a, long, winded, well deserved lecture on the ethics of disturbing his favorite roommate’s focus in regards to their ever-so important essay. he had then, of course, argued the ethics, and, to put it in his words, the point of starting an essay three weeks in advance, which earned him quite a…terrifying glare.

guy’s mind wandered for, ten, maybe fifteen minutes, pondering whether to interrupt his cherished friend’s self-inflicted torture. friend. had they considered him a friend? would they ever even think of, perhaps, being.. more? he hadn’t even noticed when the excruciatingly loud typing had long halted. the fumbling of the doorknob across him interrupted his thought process. a rather, show stopping pair of eyes met his. his breath hitched.

“hi” guy was grinning, as usual, (his voice had always skipped an octave up when he was around them.)

“hi. sorry for.. uh. sorry for yelling, earlier, i mean.” they whispered, looking down at the bleak carpet below the two.

“oh?!” he chipped, “well, you’re forgiven, though you’re still very, very mean, i hope you know.” his smirk sent butterflies through their stomach, electric currents through their veins. he eyed the smile (which they’d tried to hide) creeping onto their gorgeous face.

“hey, guy?” their voice was like honey.

“mm, w. what?” he stumbled, voice wavering. eyes dancing up from their lips.

“wanna watch a movie? um. with me?” their hands fidgeted with the thread of their shirt. “uh. kayla’s at her boyfriends place for the night.. i was just, you know, wondering if you wanted to. no pressure.”

guy smiled, warmly,

“aaoow… how romantic!” his giggles bounced off the walls, filling their ears with nothing but sweetness.

“urgh.” they sighed with utter exasperation, “yknow what. nevermind.” they rolled their eyes, turning to face their bedroom, defensively.

“NO nononono no. no!” he whined, grinning through his words and grabbing their hand, giddily spinning them back around. “i’d love to, honeyyy!” he teased. his nimble hands began to tug them towards the living room as they groaned, heavily, at the petname.

“oh, come on.” they groaned, “that’s not even what werewolves look like, not even close!” facepalming, they leaned backwards, pushing guy’s shoulder against theirs. his breath caught, not focusing on the poorly edited, skinny, man-like ‘werewolf’ displayed charmingly across the tv screen.

“how would you know? you’ve never seen a werewolf before.. for all that you know, that COULD be an accurate representation.. you don’t know!!” his smirk was almost engraved into their mind.

“well, howdya know i’m not a werewolf?” they murmured, their face dead straight, not a sight of humor behind the phrase.

“i don’t.” he spoke, definitively, “buuut it wouldn’t surprise me.. you’ve got the grumbly, dare i say, emo.. attitude to back it up.” he uttered, “OW! owww shitshitshitshitshit stoooop!!” the pitch of his voice stepping higher as they hit him, forcibly with the largest pillow in reach.

“you’re just proving my point, sweetcheeks!”

[oddballwriter]

A Piece of Cake

Summary: You work at a food truck that sells baked goods, dessert foods, and other such things, named The Sweet Spot, with two other people who you've grown close to. Close enough that they know about your crush on the cook who works at the circus-themed food truck that you share one stop with. They're tired of you being too shy to make a move, so they help you get the ball rolling so that you two can actually talk to each other.  

Warnings: Mentions of cakes and sugars. The reader gets teased by their co-workers a bit but nothing too harsh. Billie and Penny kind of ruining the moment while also making it a bit better? 

Author’s Snip: I love this series and I wanted to make something for the sake of having something other than two sparse headcanon posts.

Notes: Go watch BigTop Burger and support the creator WorthiKids in any way you can. This show is such a delight and I love everything about it.  

I’ll shut up now. Enjoy! And don’t be afraid to request.

"I'm gonna go stretch my legs." you tell your co-workers, almost out the door but their odd, almost sarcastic-sounding 'uh-huh's made you pause. "What? We hardly get customers at this stop, and our stock of food is fine. You can handle some customers while I'm out for a few minutes, can't you?" you question.

"Oh no. We'll be fine. For sure." one of your co-workers, Daniel, says, before speaking up again. "But how come you always want to walk while we're parked at this stop instead of all the others we do?" he asks, giving you a knowing look. "Like I said, we don't get customers here. It's half past noon. No one eats baked goods and desserts at noon." you say, trying to make up to defend your reasoning as to why you want to take a walk break at this spot.

"People also don't eat dessert at 1 pm, or 2am, maybe at 3pm, but those two other spots for one and two are okay to walk at too, don't you think, Y/N?" your second co-worker, Helen, suggests, with that same knowing tone.

"What's so wrong with me walking here. It's a nice walk around this block and there's some nice looking things here?" you ask.

"I bet there are." Daniel comments.

"Quit acting dumb. We know you just want to see that Circus Burger guy you have a crush on." Helen accuses. "What? No. I mean- I see him when I walk around sometimes, and I say hi, but I don't like him." you deny, even if Helen is right on the money. "And it's BigTop Burger. Not Circus Burger." you correct, trying to make her feel dumb for getting the name wrong, but you realize that it just makes you look more interested in him by knowing the actual name of the food truck he works for.

To be honest, they don't really care about your interest in him. They just like to tease you because of how much you deny it. And also because he wears clown make-up as part of his uniform and that makes the whole idea of you two kinda silly.

You look at your co-workers with a flushed face, knowing that even if you make a whole argument that you don't have a crush on him, they would know better.

"What's his name again anyways? Tom?" Helen questions. "It's Tim." you correct, again, this time with no defense. "Well. Why don't you take something for Tim and you two can talk. Maybe work up the courage to ask for his number too." Helen offered. "Or maybe just take him something for a couple of days and then ask for his number. One of the best ways to get to a man is through his stomach." she suggests.

"What should I take, though? We have so much stuff here." you say, looking at the plethora of cakes, cookies, brownies, rolls, and bonbons, the list could honestly go on forever and so could the various flavors, looks, hybrids of said things that you carried.

"Here," Daniel says as he moves towards the display and picks something for you. It was a slice of the funfetti cookie crust cheesecake. You look up at him with a 'really?' readable across your face. "What? His job has a clown theme. He might think it's funny." Daniel explains. You glance back down at the slice in its little plastic container that your truck usually puts your slice orders in before sighing and taking it.

"Go get 'em, Y/N!" Helen cheers as you actually step out of the truck and also hear Daniel shout "Don't worry, I'll pay for the slice!" as you walk forward.

The BigTop Truck wasn't that far from yours. It was just a turn around the corner and a small stride forward. It was impossible to miss the blue-colored brick of a truck once you turned the corner. As you got closer, you could see Tim leaning against the truck, on his break. As ashamed as it is for you to know that this time was usually his break time. 'Okay, Y/N. You can do this. Just walk up to him. You've done it before.' you think to yourself as you walk closer and closer. You were so caught up in your thoughts that you probably would have passed right by the BigTop truck and Tim if it weren't for him saying something.

"Hey! Y/N, right, from Sweet Spot around the corner?" Tim greets. "Out to stretch your legs again, huh?" he says. "Yeah. Sorta." you choke out, trying to both keep your cool and lower your excitement. "I brought you something." you say, holding out the slice of cheese cake to him.

Tim takes a second to look at it. "Oh wow. That's really something isn't it?" Tim comments. "Yeah. It's... something new on our menu. Some people have mixed feelings about it and," you explain, trying to come up with a reason why you'd just give him a piece of cake for free. "I was told to have someone kind of settle the score to see if we should keep it or not?" you conclude.

"I see." Tim says. "Well, I'll see how I feel." he remarks as he takes the container from your hands.

You somewhat avert your gaze so as to not make the situation weird by watching him eat. He uses the taped-in fork and takes a few bites pausing in between chews and taking pieces of certain parts to get the food as a whole.

"It's pretty good." Tim finally says, "No doubt, there's enough sugar in here to make a blood sugar monitor explode. But still good." he comments, trying to make a joke. "Yeah. I'm sure there is. If I'm being honest, this hybrid abomination feels like a culinary crime, but you know how it is with food trucks. If it's crazy enough it gets sales." you agree smiling a bit to show that you appreciate the joke.

Tim nods and even makes a few bashes himself. "Hey. I'm pretty sure we only have one or two people who actually like our food. I think everyone else is just trying it for the sake of seeing what it's like." Tim remarks, "I mean, our burger buns literally have sprinkles on them." he adds.

You think about the idea of how that would even taste and understand that that also feels like some type of crime against food as well.

"But hey. Your truck can get away with sprinkles. That's basically the go-to strategy for everything you sell." Tim explains. "I haven't eaten anything from there till right now with this, but your stuff looks good." Tim compliments.

You see Tim try and say something else after a long beat of silence but the window latch of the truck pops open and smacks him hard in the back of the head with a faint bunk noise.

"Hey, Tim. Steve wants us to head to the next stop early, for whatever reason, so-" a person with blue clown make-up and a cap on says, speaking low and monotone voice before pausing upon seeing you and their co-worker who was rubbing the hit spot, who was shooting them a quick glance.

Another person, this time a shorter, rounder woman with pink makeup, pokes her head out. She sees you and Tim as well but she changes to a brief shocked expression and speaks, "Sorry for the interruption. Tim, take your time. I need to talk to Billie for a second.", the woman takes hold of the window door and quickly throws it down to close it, but in the process hits Tim in the back of the head again. You hear her shout a muffled "Sorry!" from inside.

"Are you okay?" you ask. "I'm fine. Just fine." Tim assures. "That was Billie and Penny by the way. In case you wanted to know," he says.

"Thanks for the cake by the way it was really neat of you to offer me some." Tim thanks. "I'll keep that as a highlight of the rest of my day. Whatever that may entail." he says as he starts to walk around to enter into the truck.

You try your best to not squeal at the fact that he just called you, well, more like the cake, a highlight in his day.

You wave goodbye to each other before he gets into the truck and you turn to walk back to your food truck. Upon getting back, you find Daniel and Helen seemingly waiting inside for you.

"So, how was your date?" Daniel jokingly asks.

"He liked the cake," you say, "And I met his co-workers." you add.

"Ooh. Sounds pretty serious." Hellen buds in with a joke of her own.

[amitiagailec]

Bear with me in either wrong grammar or poor writing bc it is 2am and all I had is motivation (and am a novice).

Fragment!AU Written Content #1

   To think I’d come so far as to succeed as the new headmaster of Blueberry Yogurt Academy. My time as a student here seemed to have flown by so fast, and it was just yesterday that I came back to return my gratitude and learnings as a professor. Although this academy may seem cold and strict, to me it is always filled with warmth, enjoyment, satisfaction and wonders by its students and learning facilitators alike. To further improve and bear witness as our academy continues to flourish is an honor to me.

   As fun as that thought is, becoming the headmaster bears responsibilities, and in this place, I’d write three. Managing the academy academically and systematically is a given for any one of this position, but the next two simply come with this place. 

   The first of those is the Dimensional Portal that lies within the academy itself. This institute adept in magic has the duty of guarding the portal, ensuring whatever is at the other side never comes across. Every professor must be capable and prepared at all costs, and the headmaster is at the forefront of this defense.

   The second came as a surprise. There were passing rumors within the professors of a ‘ghost’ wandering the academy. Once or twice they’d say that same one may or may not be haunting the city across, but that wouldn’t make sense when both are separated enough by the river. I treated it as nothing more than a scary story until I met the ‘ghost’ himself.

   A week before, the former headmaster asked me to join them in wandering the academy. A simple request for us to indulge in peace and quiet. From the garden, the classrooms, library, to the gymnasium, we are taking in the academy quietly while we reminisce, looking back, and look forward, shining it in a brighter light than what I already first felt for it. Then lastly, we got to the Hall of Enlightenment. It never fails to amaze me that this place, despite what it contained at the very top, its stairway instead seemed like a pathway to the night sky, its stars and the worlds it may contain.

   At the bottom step, looking towards the portal above was a Cookie I have never seen before. With his back facing towards us I can see most of his long blue hair that seemed weightless behind him, trying to cover his dark cape and light robe that seem to float up like liquid at the ends.

   Confused with the stranger before us, I turned to the headmaster. They then told me these words:

“When you become the headmaster, you must know that your most important role is to defend the academy and protect its students. You must watch over the portal, ensuring it is kept that way it is and..” - they turned to look back at the Cookie that still haven't looked our way - “..watch over Him as well. That Cookie is to be both respected and feared. You need never ask of his origins. Treat him with courtesy and provide if he asks of you, for he will lend aid to you in your time. Be cautious when you felt like darkness surrounds you. And never ever let him step here with anyone else.”

   By the time they finished, I turned back to see that Cookie has finally acknowledged us. I finally took notice how they themself is blue, a rare color for the dough. I took my time observing more, meeting his gaze. His eyes are sharp but lax, blue irises with different hints of light for each eyes that make it seem alive for a little.

   When I broke the contact, they turned towards the headmaster, who bowed to him and excused us out of the hall. We never spoke about that Cookie again until my predecessor's last day and it's been a few weeks since have started my term. But I had a feeling I will be seeing that Cookie again, and for the foreseeable future.

– Found in the diary of the _th Headmaster of

Blueberry Yogurt Academy

[vitaliskravtsov]

Could I do #48 for the song prompt? (For parswoops ofc bc I am nothing if not predictable)

okay so this is a PERFECT pimms song but tbh... it's also GOLD for just anything with Kent, so I was SO PUMPED when I saw what you'd picked

48) boy - maisie peters

Boy, you think I'm dumb, tryna pull one on me like I've never been kissed You had a couple of exes and I know that they let you get away with it But you're a boy And I can tell that you've never been hugged boy And I can do better than this, oh better than this

Kent's first NHL goal is a beautiful power play goal from a mess in front of the net, and Jeff wants nothing more than to hug him, so he does.

Or, well, he tries.

Kent is flying around the ice, yelling his blonde head off, avoiding absolutely any contact until he slows enough to get to the bench and get his fist bumps and a little cuff on the shoulder from the captain.

He does come back for little acknowledgements, but that moment, right after his goal - he's totally, wholly alone.

Jeff sends up a little prayer of thanks that people's attitudes and team cohesion aren't topics reporters like to drill him on.

It's not as notable, after that, that Kent ducks away from hugs, both on ice and in the locker room. He doesn't do anything as showy as that first night, but he still slips out, slides from under the plies, takes only claps of recognition instead of full body slams, leaves people behind to slam themselves into walls, makes it so that he's never the tactile center of anything.

It's a little weird, because Jeff's seen pictures of his Memorial Cup run, and he's not sure anything could have fit between the top line of that team when they were cellying. So it's, you know. It's a little insulting, if nothing else.

And then, come December, Kent's drunk and kissing Jeff, and Jeff's sure it's a one-time thing, and then it's not. They're making out in every available closet, perpetually going out on dates, staying in and hanging out and watching old vampire rom-coms as an excuse to eat shitty pizza on Jeff's couch instead of in Lamby's basement, and it's.

The thing is, Kent still won't let Jeff hold him. Kiss him? Sure. Pin him? Yeah. Smack his hand away from the carrots he's chopping up for salad? Okay.

But a hug after a bad game? Nope. Cuddling while watching what is arguably one of the worst movies Jeff's ever seen? Abso-fucking-lutely not.

The first time he tried, Kent practically jumped six feet in the air and almost ran out the door of the apartment, and the only thing that kept him in was the fact that it was 2am in Vegas, and he hadn't bought a coat.

Jeff's let him get away with it because, like, personal space and improvement.

But it's April, and the Aces are mathematically out of the playoffs, just barely eked out by the fucking Flames, and Kent still won't let Jeff do anything for him.

Jeff is, just a little bit, fucking done.

It comes to a head after they lose in a spectacular blowout against the Wild, 6-0, last road game of the season. They make it back to the room, and Kent immediately drops the cover he'd had in the hallway to duck questions from vets, plops down on the bed, and goes dead to the world.

Jeff sits down on the bed next to him and gently, gently, rests his hand on Kent's spine.

"Hey," he whispers.

Kent jumps, tenses.

"Don't fucking touch me," he hisses, shrinking into himself.

Jeff's hands fly into the air.

"Whoa, hey, I'm sorry," he says, voice defensive. "I was just trying to be nice to my boyfriend, don't mind me."

"You could not," Kent growls into his pillow.

"Don't do that," Jeff spits back. "Don't do the fucking I'm angry I'm an asshole so I'm gonna yell at Jeff about it thing, that's not fucking fair to me."

"Shut up," Kent tells him, and puts a pillow over his head. He signs something, angry and sharp, and though it's not one Jeff knows (he's got "I love you", "Thanks", and "What" down, but that's about it), he knows it's one Kent signs often to the person who takes up so much space in Kent's head it's intolerable, sometimes.

"I'm not him," Jeff nearly yells. "I'm not going to tear you down, I'm not going to hit you or... or... fucking die! I don't know, okay, but I'm not him, and if you don't..."

He takes a deep breath.

"If you don't know that, that I'm not him, then I can't do this, because I can't do that to myself, and I can't let you do that to yourself, either."

He slides off the bed, puts on his shoes, grabs his duffel from next to the door.

"I love you," he whispers to the silent room, and he slips out the door.

[spammmies]

sometimes i’ll see a vid and remember that cis ppl rly don’t realise that trans ppl r human.

context: i saw a video from a cis woman ranting about the “period debate” and how that made her feel as someone with pcos. she mostly just spoke about the very real horrors ppl w pcos go through. at the start, she briefly touched on how the phrase “periods don’t belong to women” means different things in different spaces- like in trans inclusive spaces it just acknowledges that trans men and some non binary ppl can get periods too.

but still. somehow. the op and all the commenters. forgot. that pcos is not exclusive to cis ppl.

trans ppl. can have pcos too.

trans ppl can be afflicted with the same shit cis ppl do.

trans ppl are

HUMAN

the vid really rubbed me the wrong way- almost like a centrist Trying to placate the trans community by giving us a shout out, but really she’s still speaking from a place of fear instilled by transphobes. she goes right back to centring herself as a cis woman- “sure we don’t own periods but we can’t disown them” first of all, no one is asking you to disown them. what does that even mean? and how does that help any of us? second of all, how does this relate to trans people?

there was a lot of “well if trans women want periods they can take mine lol” and “why would anyone want periods??? it’s hellish and oppressive” and while i’m not a trans woman, i can safely say that not many people actually Want periods. people Want to be affirmed. people Want to be respected. and that’s the thing cis ppl fundamentally misunderstand abt trans ppl. when a 11 yr old girl is excited for her first period, she’s not excited for the period. she’s excited for the symbolism- the womanhood or the coming of age. same fkn shit!! it’s not ABOUT the period!!!! literally all we want is to be seen and treated as human. even then, most of this “debate” isn’t ABOUT trans women or non binary ppl!!! it’s about the trans men and non binary ppl that still menstruate!!!!! it’s abt including us and improving trans healthcare and period care!!! which i KNOW is still pretty vague but forgive me i’m typing at 2am!!!!!

i’ve blocked the op now, because my insides kept getting itchy over how the vid felt transphobic but if i called attention to it, i would look silly or sensitive because it’s something only trans ppl are receptive to. the comments were FULL of cis women being super appreciative and agreeing wholeheartedly- which was weird because it also felt like op said a whole lot of nothing. 3 min vid: “pcos bad and Only cis women’s experience with misogyny is tied to it” comments: “WOOO PREACH YES FINALLY SOMEONE SAID THIS”

though i do wish i didn’t chicken out and i actually asked these guys something:

how are we mocking you for having periods/pcos? is it really mocking, or are you feeling defensive because people are trying to tell you you’re not the only ones that deal with this shit?

does being told that this experience isn’t inherently womanly somehow take something from you? does it somehow deny your reality? well it shouldn’t, you’re more than welcome to link your own period and reproductive capabilities to your womanhood! just know that period=woman or period=feminism is nowhere near universal.

finally, does realising that trans people are human, and that they share experiences with you, threaten you?

tldr cis ppl r irritating me bc covert transphobia is SO annoying when u cant do anything abt it

[alyssaonaux]

The Unsung Hero of Ted Lasso

A deep dive into the meaning behind the music.

There are few characters that go unloved in Ted Lasso, if any at all. As we are reintroduced to the faces and stories we’ve come to adore and so deliciously crave, I implore you to pay particular attention to the mightiest of supporting characters, one that drives the show well beyond the quick-witted dialogue on the page. 

“The Lasso Way,” as Hannah Waddingham’s Rebecca not-so-deceptively establishes in the show’s premiere episode, has certainly swept us off our feet. There’s no other way of putting it: “Ted Lasso is a vibe.” Creator and star Jason Sudeikis uttered the words himself whilst speaking to The Guardian during a press run for the streaming series’ second season, and it’s become somewhat of a battle cry for fans. If you ask me, which no one necessarily is yet here we are, nothing more directly and appropriately conveys the true essence of that vibe, than the music that carries the show. 

If you’re tired of cycling through your ‘on repeat’ playlist, or looking to mix things up on your 2am train ride to work like me, look no further than the Ted Lasso soundtrack. While the original score for the show is equally as evocative and emotionally compelling, it is the song selection that truly crafts a narrative of its own. 

Sudeikis has said more than once that decisions for the show are made with intention, and extreme attention to detail. It’d be naive to think those songs were selected without greater meaning. So, here I am, tipping my hat to the music supervision of this beautiful show. 

Music in absolutely any context has an incredibly niche way of infiltrating our defenses, exposing every nerve to the complexities of life. And that is why the song sourcing that goes into curating the soundtrack of Ted Lasso is so impressive. It is robust, resolute. It truly takes you by the hand and guides you through the series. While our favorite characters’ stories still have 12 episodes to resolve, the final words of an episode - the lyrics, those melodies - they are what bring us home each week. 

Those songs that play us out - or end the episode, if you’re not familiar with the term, à la Bill O’Reilly’s infamous on-set meltdown - they provide us relief in ways dialogue just can’t. It’s why there are entire categories at major award ceremonies dedicated to songs written for film and television. Hell, the Emmys only added a category solely for music supervision in the last decade. Better late than never, to say the least, but in classic English vernacular, I’m chuffed to bits by it - because the soundtrack is largely what makes iconic on-screen moments memorable. Those songs make must-see tv, must-listen, too. 

It all leads back to two vital pillars to any successful storytelling: pace and tone.  

Think “Kiss Me” and She’s All That, “Chasing Cars” and Grey’s Anatomy, or literally any John Hughes project - these are the shows and movies that made us, and they are intrinsically intertwined with songs that bring us back to the moment we first got to experience them. They’re inevitably linked in our minds forever.

Certain songs will live alongside the series’ legacy far beyond its impending end. “She’s A Rainbow,” “Strange,” “Somewhere Only We Know,” just to name a few, all contribute to moments that are embedded in the heart and soul of the show. Moments where our beloved characters are faced with the steepest peaks and deepest valleys their fictional lives come to encounter. I’d be remiss not to acknowledge that many of the most captivating scenes of the series are accompanied by songs with uncanny parallels to the character’s storylines.   

The word that comes to mind is catharsis. In scenes loaded with suspense like Ted’s season one panic attack during Rebecca’s commanding karaoke performance of Frozen’s “Let It Go,” we cling to the melody and ride that tension right until it breaks. Then, you delve into the lyrical content and piece together even more context to the scene, like reading between the lines for little messages left to us by the brains behind the show. A well-placed song elevates a scene; it amplifies the emotional intensity of what’s written on the page, and just makes us feel all the feels. And at the end of the day, that’s why we’re all here. We watch so we can feel. So we can experience and emote as a collective whole. A community. 

My anticipation for the third season surrounds greatly around the role music will play in what is likely the final installment of this series. After screening the first four episodes, I can confidently confirm the music supervision hasn’t missed a beat. If anything, the songs chosen feel even more integral to the passionate, visceral sways of emotion already taking over our beloved characters. I’ve already added several of the songs to a private playlist, so as not to spoil anything for the negative six people perusing my Spotify. 

As an avid lover of music and fierce defender of song feeding the soul, I'm enthralled by how Ted Lasso’s melodic arch tucks right alongside the dialogue, editing, cinematography - the whole kit and caboodle. It’s all right there, swirling the sweetest harmony and serving this wonderful, wonderful show. 

Because anyone will tell you, on a ride that's long and labyrinthian, you’ve gotta have somebody good on the aux.

[rawrmeansilyindinosawr]

BOY BUTT

I MET MR KUNT AT BRPADWAY JUNCTION N I HAV HIS MUMBER . n i HAVLOST MI ASS CUZ OF FALLING DOWN THA STAIRS N A POLTERGEIST SOooooo now I HAV BOy butt. n HONEstly I Tink i also lost it from SAYING DED ASS TOO Mucho I maniFesteD it . :-\

iMADE A REMIX OF KISh ME on A GUITAR W A BROKEN N3cK tht goes LIK DIS .

“Kishh me

under the broadway junction stair case ,,

N let my . balls….

Swing swing ,

Oh so freeeee-eeely .”

i reAlized after snorting K mi friendz nailz in the dress aisle of Goodwill dat i will aLwayz AGREE TO THA golden Rule of Lyfe which is to NEVER step on the black part of the crosswalkz U can ONLY step on the white lineZ or u will LITERALLY DIE . N y is it more often than not , the things that we want r not the things we need and i feel like i’ll always be yearning for something more in store but the emptiness can’t b filled w just more of this n less of that n elaine says no one has good or bad luck just more or less of it .

Tha nxt time a strangwrr in a fox- pikachu costume cums up to meh n mi fwendz Wiff a guitar in tha wick n asks to sing Meh a song i will NO LONGER LIsten But buttle it by more fart jokez. Bc it has been yrs i hav had theese shower thoughts/questions/water based introspection: If u fart is it a culmination of all the farts around u cuz Ur breathing recycled farts in the air in side u ???? N on a. philosophical lvl. Nothing is original bitch. No one is original . Not even ur fooking fartsz.

Im tired of being so sexy and also so funny and also people expecting me to be the intimidating and mysterious and sexy person . I believe in kindness and being an internet troll n i grew up ugly n barely am making it to be kind of sexy within the last few years . So stop putting so much pressure on me Bith . Im literally an empath .

im Nvr going to party with scary Ukrainian fashion photographers again in greenpoint even tho they Hav free pizza <best food group> n their bosses r retired sexy models and also the closest deli near them has a free compOoter . N im done being strangers who drink old coffee at 2am’s outlets n shulder to cry on ab their exs w bpd . Cuz im empathetic to dat but also im tryna strictly VIOBE . N the vibeZ were not there . Plus i had an allergy attack n cried in the bathroom . :-/

i <3 waking up to phone calls at 7am/8am after i tried to induce sleep to myself w my 12MG mellytonin dissolvable tabletz N goin to get happie hour b4 it opens n debating new piercings n brainstorming new tattooz n stealing salt shakerz from restaurants w moi best fwendzzzz. It is so fukin Kold in Nyc n im waiting for my seattle he they cutie to move back to nyc so we can give each other allergy attacks by sniffing 2 many flowers at maria hernandez n then claritin n chill . N show them mi plushies . Cuz rn meow dating lyfe is like casual but I don’t need messy ass ppl . N i don’t believe in ghosting bc every1 deserves to have a convo but Meh . Thts objective lol . n It’s pointless to argue or submerge myself in a convo ive already had w someone where they have historically been defensive n Ugh lames . Only dating ppl like 23+ yr old n up now . :-]

I almost slapped the doggone giv a dog a bone dog shit out of the bouncer at purgatory N also this Girl who accused me of “cutting the line” at Elsewhere when i was guestlisted N also this person who narced on me the beg of the Yr at tha party but i chose world peace . N zen . N kava over stogies now . Smh . Miso soup over mala base , red hot chili peppers over deftones . Hot cheetos over takiz. Smh . i rly need my karma to reverse .

werk has been alrite n im soooo sad sag season is almost over . I realized i love cucumbers so much the last few wks n i am not afraid to show n tell ab it . i Love all the saggitiusrss in my life n i hav luved the consecutive bday parties ive gone to the last few weekz in which ppl have fallen asleep in their wolf costumes after doing One bump of K and screaming at Alexa to play Sleeping wiff sirenz. N trying to go to tinas but their hours r weird now apparently so we all end up at Sum random Dunkin Donut Hole place where my ex used to yell at meh at 6am . N i luv all of the he theys i hav met within the last few weekz who drink white clawz n have pretty faces n All the goth girls who also have snakebites who Kiss me n tell me if i wanted a sprite they would buy me a sprite . tho the tru drug of choice here is Vanilla coke , i Am extremely flattered . <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3

ive been spending alot more time on tumblr cuz it Just feelzz rite n wayyyy better cuz now PORN ;0 isback here. n idk if yall rly kno but ya . tumblr is likebACK cuz twitter is kinda lamess now. sigh . playing in Parks w ex situationships r fun n even fugging in Bars called Bar r fun but i almost got choked out by my Ali express vivienne westwood necklace at the playground N tht shuld hav been a sign I shuld hav went home. idk y i alwayzz put mi heart on tha line 4 Ppl i kno kant rly take kare of it the way i want 2. Im Goin to b working my last shift at holiday market Thurs evening then going to LA p much rite after s000000. Ima try to pull sum rockstar shit there nalso make 100 dumplings w my mummy for xmas even tho Lunar yr is technically way better n Idk why We as taiwanese ppl even care ab xmas so much butt.

My boy butt says BYE!!!!!!! n Til nxt week ?! <3

xoxoxoX0 , meunster cheeze is not monsterous Believer/civil rites activist/where do i find gahndi fan fiction online/lactose intolerance lactaid pills thtr expired dnt work save urself n ur liver advocate , renny ;]]

[paradoxspaceheater]

honestly i’d be lowkey terrified if somebody who wasn’t aspec talked about this hc, but i kind of really like the idea of asexual jgy,,, i think he’s got a lot of baggage around the topic generally (for understandable reasons) but mostly just. doesn’t ever really care about sex on a personal level!

he and qin su only consummate their relationship for political reasons, and like. if she knows he’s not really interested in sex it wouldn’t come as a shock to her that he doesn’t want to do that again. he’s good enough at pretending he still has romantic feelings for her that she doesn’t think anything has changed at all

anyway it works well enough with canon and i’m lowkey tired of people sexualizing him so much all the time so join me on the biromantic ace jgy agenda we have. cake?

[natsfirecat]

Bring You Back

pairing: Natasha Romanoff x fem reader

summary: r and nat have happily been together for over a year, until everything comes crashing down. now, nat and the avengers will stop at nothing to get back the r they know

genre: angst w happy ending

word count: 10k

warnings: swearing, cheating, mind control/brainwashing, setting things on fire, Supergirl references, two sentences that could potentially be interpreted as implied smut but that wasn’t my intention, lmk if i need to add any more

A/N: this is set in the same universe as Operation Fire Widow but you don’t need to read that to understand this!

also this is kinda proofread, and by that i mean it’s 2am and i read over it but i’m tired and not thinking straight so the proofread doesn’t really count

”I swear, if you two don’t get married then I won’t believe in love anymore,” Carol said as she sat down on the chair across from you and Natasha.

You smiled as you felt your girlfriend’s arms around you tighten.

Carol couldn’t help but smile proudly at the two of you. 

You had been together for a little over a year, but you had been crushing on her for months beforehand. Carol, being one of your best friends, had been part of the big plan created to get the two of you together. Things didn’t end up going as planned, but of course it all worked out in the end. 

“Does anyone want a blanket before it starts?” Wanda asked as she entered the living room.

Carol and Peter both nodded at her, but Natasha simply shook her head.

“I have my blanket right here,” she whispered into your ear.

You grinned, then closed your eyes. You purposely used your pyrokinesis to heat yourself up to just the right temperature so your girlfriend could be warm. 

She leaned forward, planting a gentle kiss on your neck, causing you to giggle. 

In the past year that you were together, Natasha evidently found out about your love for Supergirl.

It took some convincing, but eventually you were able to get her to binge watch the show with you so she could catch up to the live episodes.

“Y’know, you’re kinda like Kara if you think about it,” Natasha had told you. “You’re a happy little ray of sunshine, but you can also be a powerful badass when you want to,”

You smiled at her, giving her a quick kiss.

“I think you’re like Lena,” you replied, smiling at her. “You don’t have powers, but you’re still a badass and the team would basically be lost without you. You’re also super smart, and not to mention the fact that you both have gorgeous green eyes. Plus, you and Lena both act like you’re all dark and scary, but deep down you’re a softie,”

She rolled her eyes at the last sentence, prompting you to giggle before kissing her once again.

“So if I’m Kara and you’re Lena, then that means that you have reason to ship Supercorp now!”

“I already ship them, detka.” She told you, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear. “Lena clearly makes her smile a lot more than Mon-El ever did. I wish he never came back in the first place, but Lena did right by making the device that required him to leave Earth,”

“I’m so proud of you.”

Now, Natasha had caught up so she could watch the episodes live with you Carol, Wanda, and Peter. 

The current season wasn’t great, but you had been watching it since the pilot of the show first aired and you certainly weren’t going to stop now.

“Damn it,” you heard Natasha whisper as William appeared on the screen. “I don’t want to see him,”

You smiled, then placed your hands over hers, which were currently resting on your lower stomach. 

“He’s just taking up screen-time that should be going to Nia, or Alex or Kelly,” she said to you.

You nodded in agreement, softly rubbing your thumb over her knuckles.

You leaned back father into her, allowing her to place a few kisses on your head. 

“I love you, Natty,” you said softly, looking up at her. 

“I love you too,” she whispered back, unable to stop the smile on her face.

“Hey, lovebirds!” Carol said, pausing the show. “Do your little sappy couple stuff later, we’re about to get a Supercorp moment,”

You breathed out a chuckle, then turned your attention back to the screen.

-

After the episode ended, Natasha insisted on carrying you back to your shared bedroom because of how tired you were.

You nodded, allowing her to effortlessly pick you up and take you upstairs to bed. 

Luckily, you had decided to wear your pajamas before going down for Supergirl, so you didn’t have to change now that you were as tired as you were.

She gently set you down on the bed, climbing next to you as soon as she changed into her own pajamas.

Her arms had become your home at this point. You scooted yourself closer to her, placing your head underneath her chin as you wrapped your arms around her. 

A yawn escaped your mouth as you began to entangle your legs with hers.

“Natty?” You asked her, not quite ready to fall asleep yet. She nodded for you to continue. “When do you think Bucky’s gonna ask Steve out? I can tell he likes him. Maybe we should do something for him like my friends did with me last year,”

Her breath had hitched the moment you mentioned Bucky’s name.

“What?” You asked her, eyes opening wider now. 

“I don’t think Bucky likes Steve,” she said. Not in her soft voice she normally used with you. But with her voice she used with everyone else.

“What makes you say that?” You asked, your smile faltering a bit. 

“He just doesn’t,”

“And how would you know that?”

“Don’t worry about it, let’s just go to sleep.”

You backed away from her, raising yourself up so you were on your elbows now.

“Why are you being so defensive?”

“I’m not!”

“You are,”

“Y/N I told you, don’t worry about it!”

Her eyes had widened, and she almost looked afraid. And that made you afraid.

“Natty, what’s going on?”

She said nothing, but broke her eye contact.

“Natasha,” you said, your own tone changing a bit too. It wasn’t your happy, cheerful tone you had most of the time. It was the tone you used while on the battlefield, or during interrogations. “Tell me what’s going on right now.”

“I can’t,” she said at almost a whisper. Tears formed in her eyes, threatening to fall down.

“Tell me, or I’ll ask Bucky myself,”

“No, don’t!” She begged. “Please don’t! It didn’t mean anything! You’re the one I love!”

Your heart fell, as she practically confirmed your fear.

You were wide awake now. 

“No,” you got out. “No it’s not true,”

You pulled yourself out of her grasp and got out of the bed. You sped-walked down to the end of the hall, Natasha following after you.

Your fists were balled so tightly, you were sure your nails would leave a mark; they were almost drawing blood.

You had to take a deep breath before knocking on his door, you didn’t want to set it on fire.

“Yeah?” He asked, opening it. His smile fell as soon as he saw Natasha’s tear-struck face.

“What did you guys do?” You asked shakily, looking between them.

“You told her?!” Bucky said angrily. 

“No, no, no, no, no,” you said softly, your stomach already twisting. “It’s true?”

“I promise it didn’t mean anything,” Natasha cried desperately. She pulled your arm back, flinching at the heat radiating off of it, but she didn’t let go. “It was only once, we just had a bit too much to drink, and-”

You pulled your arm out of her grasp, already feeling the tears falling down your cheeks.

“When?” 

“Two weeks ago,” Bucky answered, earning a glare from Natasha.

“Y/N, baby, please,” she said as she reached out for you again. “I love you, and I want you,”

You couldn’t even look at her.

Without another word, you made your way back to your bedroom. Not the one you shared with Natasha, but the one you had before you and her got together. 

At this point you began to hyperventilate. You could hear the banging coming from the other side of your door, but you weren’t going to open it. 

You lay facing down on your bed, letting the sobs escape as your breathing only got faster.

Before you knew it, the pillow you were clinging onto had completely caught on fire. 

“Shit,” you said, shaking it to try to get rid of it. 

Unfortunately, your grip on it only made it worse. So you tossed it onto the bed.

Bad idea.

Now the entire bed was on fire. 

“Oh, fuck it!” 

Luckily, Tony had used his nanotech to upgrade all of your suits. So with a tap to your watch, your fireproof superhero suit began to appear. 

If you could smother the flames with something that wouldn’t catch on fire, maybe it could work.

It did not.

The fire alarm was now going off. 

“Fuck, shit, fuck,” you muttered.

You closed your eyes, holding your hand out to attempt to use your powers to put the flames out, but it didn’t work. You could still hardly breathe, and your vision was still blurry with tears.

Finally, you fell to your knees, letting out a scream that carried so many emotions. 

When you opened your eyes, the flames were gone. Your hands were shaking, your chest was burning, and the fire alarm was still going off, but the flames were gone. 

You let out a shaky sigh.

You stood up, ready to open the door, but you stopped yourself right before you grabbed the handle.

You couldn’t be here anymore. You wouldn’t. Not after what she did to you. 

You figured you’d call one of your childhood friends, and stay with her for a bit. You two had always had one another’s backs, so you didn’t doubt that she’d help you.

You made your way back to the door, silently praying that no one would still be waiting. 

You wish had half-come true. Natasha wasn’t right outside your door anymore, but she was down the hall heading toward you. It looked like she was carrying something to open your door, since she wouldn’t have been able to do it herself with the material it was.

You quickly broke eye contact with her, then dashed down the other end of the hall. You heard her footsteps, but you didn’t stop running. 

“Y/N, please!” She called, finally catching up to you as you stood outside yours and her bedroom door.

“Get away from me,” you choked out. 

You just needed to grab your phone so you could call your friend. You needed your phone so you could get away from the person who had caused you all the pain you were feeling.

You opened the door, wasting no time in finding your phone right where you left it on the nightstand. 

Unfortunately, your eyes met hers as you turned back around.

“Please, let’s just talk about this! Y/N, I love you!”

“I wish I believed that.”

You brushed past her, leaving her stunned. 

You couldn’t face anyone right now. Once you got to your friend’s place, you’d text your other friends and let them know that you were safe. 

But for now, you exited the building without another word. 

You were thankful for your fire powers at this moment. You could see your breath in front of you, so you knew it had to be cold for anyone without pyrokinesis.

Once you got far enough away from the compound (you knew you were far enough when you could no longer hear the fire truck that had automatically been sent over by F.R.I.D.A.Y.) you pulled your phone out, and scrolled through your contacts until you found your friend.

You clicked the call button, holding the phone up to your ear.

“Please pick up, please pick up, please pick up...”

The phone rang a few more times as you waited for her, but you never found out if she actually picked up or not; as you suddenly lost consciousness at the feeling of a blow to your head. 

Part of you tried to fight whatever was happening to you, hearing the voices as your body was dragged around. But the other part of you thought about what Natasha had done to you. That part didn’t fight.

And that part won.

6 months later

”We have intel on a HYDRA base formed near here, responsible for multiple civilian casualties and experimentation,” Steve told everyone. 

Natasha had been staring at the empty seat at the table, once filled with your presence. 

“Nat,” Steve said to her, sighing.

“What?” She asked, being brought back to reality.

“Look, Nat,” he said softly. “We need you for this. We need the whole team.”

She said nothing, but nodded at him. 

She had to restrain herself from shifting her gaze back to your empty chair. She also had to restrain herself from looking at anyone but Steve to avoid everyone else’s lingering glares.

Most missions didn’t need the whole team, but because no one had been to this base before, they didn’t know what to expect. Because of that, it was better to be prepared and have the whole team rather than risking a few people for what could be too much for them.

The base was only about 30 minutes on the Quinjet, so definitely within somewhat close proximity. 

Steve sent Wanda and Natasha down first. 

Neither of them said anything to each other. Wanda had hardly said two words to her at all since you left. She missed you, and she blamed her for your leaving. 

Tony and Carol followed close behind. 

Natasha held her gun at her side, holding it up at every corner they passed. 

Of course, she wasn’t really thinking about this mission, or about HYDRA.

She was thinking about you.

She was thinking about how you would go out of your way to hold her hand while she was nervous on missions. She didn’t get nervous until you.

Before you, she never really felt that she had a reason to be nervous.

But once she was with you, she would always get scared that she wouldn’t make it back to you, or you wouldn’t make it back to her. 

Even after you left, her nerves didn’t go away. 

With her powers, Wanda could sense Natasha’s anxiety. She was pretty good at hiding it, but her thoughts were loud enough for Wanda to tell otherwise. 

They rounded the next corner, making their way into a room filled with computers. 

“We’re in,” Wanda said through her earpiece. 

Natasha made her way to one of the computers, and began to type away to get what they needed.

If she hadn’t been the cause for you leaving, Wanda, along with the team in general, would actually feel bad for the assassin. She hardly went on missions anymore, unless they absolutely needed her. 

She could hide her emotions when people looked her straight in the face, but they all knew that she had been miserable since you had left.

Before you, she didn’t smile very often. When she did, it was usually just a small grin. But once she was with you, she couldn’t help but smile almost all the time around you. She wouldn’t hesitate to fully smile with you, especially when you were always smiling at her.

“Oh my god, Natasha,” Wanda said, letting out a long, frustrated sigh. “For just one second, could you stop thinking about…”

Natasha perked up when she noticed that Wanda didn’t finish her sentence.

She turned around to see what she was looking at, causing her jaw to drop instantly.

“Y/N…”

-

“Let go of me!”

“No! I don’t belong here!”

“What did you do to me? Why can’t I use my powers?”

“Get away from me!”

Your cries echoed through everyone’s ears as you were restrained in a small cell.

Your plan was to burn the two redheads before they could get HYDRA’s important files, but they had failed to inform you that one of them had powers too. Except her powers allowed her to constrict you in mid-air as you fought against her. 

She eventually put you into some sort of trance, so you wouldn’t be able to hurt anyone. 

You weren’t sure why everyone was looking at you the way they did, but you figured it had something to do with them being Avengers.

In your months as a HYDRA agent, they always warned you of the Avengers. They said they couldn’t let you get anywhere near them. 

You weren’t sure why, I mean, you could literally control fire with your mind. Had you been paired against anyone other than the redheaded witch, you would’ve easily won. 

“Y/N,” came the voice of Captain America.

“That’s not my name. I don’t know who Y/N is,” you replied, sending him a harsh glare.

“Y/N, we know this isn’t you. We’re going to do everything in our power to get you back,”

You scoffed,

“This is who I am. Why don’t you just kill me and get it over with? Especially since you haven’t even given me the liberty to be able to defend myself, by taking my powers,”

He sighed,

“We’re not going to kill you. Tony designed this cell to counteract abilities like yours. It’s not doing any damage to you, but you won’t be able to use them. We can’t allow you to have your powers while you’re like this,”

“Then just fucking kill me!”

He sighed again. 

“I’m going to leave you in here for the night, but we’ll be back tomorrow,”

He waved goodbye, and even gave you a small smile.

You weren’t sure why he did it, but you only glared back.

-

“I can’t do it, Clint,” Natasha said, pacing around in circles.

Clint was the only one who didn’t completely shun her and shut her out after finding out what happened. Part of him wanted to, but he knew she needed somebody. Even if it was just one person. And if that one person had to be him, then so be it.

“You don’t have to do it now, especially since she’s not… the Y/N we know. But you can’t avoid her forever.”

“She left me. For all we knew, she could’ve been dead. She made no contact, she clearly didn’t want us to find her. I thought…. I thought she was gone forever. But now HYDRA has her, and it’s my fault.”

“Nat, you can’t blame yourself for this. Her abilities are unique, so it’s not surprising that they would target her like this,”

“It is my fault. If I hadn’t… done what I did, if I hadn’t been so fucking stupid, she wouldn’t have ran off like that. She wouldn’t have been taken.”

“You’re right, you were fucking stupid. But you didn’t cause HYDRA to take her and mess with her mind. That’s on them, not you,”

She shifted her gaze to the floor as tears began to form in her eyes.

“I’ve missed her so much, Clint,” she said, her voice breaking. “I wish I could take it all back. I wish it never happened. I wish I could just hold her in my arms and never let go,”

He took a step closer to her, then wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close as she began to sob. 

Just then, Steve began to make his way back, passing the kitchen.

“Anything?” Clint asked as he walked by, still holding Natasha close as she continued to cry.

Steve gave a solemn look, then shook his head no.

When he saw the way Natasha was crying, he felt a pang of sympathy for her. Yes, she had broken the heart of one of the nicest, and overall universally liked person, but he couldn’t help but want to comfort her in this moment. She was once his friend too.

Instead, he continued to the meeting room to consult the rest of the team and inform them of your state.

-

Steve kept his promise about returning. He was only there for a few minutes before Tony Stark stood in front of your cell. 

He looked like he was about to throw up.

“So,” he began, stepping forward. “Do you know why you’re here, any of this look familiar to you?”

“God, for someone who’s supposed to be a genius, you’re really fucking stupid,”

“Look, whatever HYDRA’s told you isn’t true. They’re filling your head with lies. Both literally and figuratively.”

“Sure they are,”

“Well then why don’t you tell me what all you remember of your life before HYDRA?”

“Nothing,” you said with a shrug. “But that doesn’t mean they’re lying to me. They’re the ones who gave me my pyrokinesis, which you took from me, but the memory loss was a side effect.”

“They didn’t give you your powers, Y/N, you got them when you were a sophomore in college. Freak accident with something that wasn’t supposed to be in your chemistry class, but it ended up working out for you. You became an Avenger two years ago,”

“Don’t call me that. Don’t call me Y/N.”

“Fine then. What would you like me to call you? What name did HYDRA give you?”

“I don’t have a name. I have an identity.”

“Alright then, what’s your identity?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“Cute. Alright, that’s enough for now,”

He left you. It seemed you had annoyed him enough.

No one came by for the rest of the day.

Well, that’s not entirely true. One person, who looked like he was just a kid, stopped by to slip food through the tray.

“Here you go, Miss.” 

He didn’t call you the same thing Tony and Steve did. You were grateful for it.

But as soon as his eyes met yours, they instantly filled with tears and he ran out.

You had always been well-liked among all the Avengers, but Tony began to have a soft spot for you when you became friends with Peter. You were a bit older than him, but you always acted like a big sister to him, and thought of him as your little brother. Soon enough, Tony began viewing you as a daughter figure.

He didn’t like the idea of Peter going in there with you, but he was outvoted when the kid volunteered to bring your food.

He knew he was right when he saw him running back, rubbing his shirt against his eyes to wipe away the tears.

For the next week, it became a routine. Steve and Tony would come by, and try to get you to talk, but ended up just going in circles. You were beginning to wish they actually had killed you.

But after the first week, something changed. Two women walked in. 

You recognized one of them as the redhead who used her powers on you, and the other was a taller blonde who looked vaguely familiar.

“What now?” You asked, sitting against the wall. 

Neither of them made clear eye contact. 

“You’re the one who suspended me in the air while your teammates fucking captured me,” you said, pointing at Wanda. 

“We didn’t capture you, HYDRA did,” she told you.

“That seems to be a common theme going around, and it’s getting tiring. But you know what? Go ahead, tell me more about how they’re lying to me when they’re the ones who made me into what I am today,”

“We’re not here to talk about HYDRA,” Carol said, looking up. 

“Oh? Well then by all means, do continue,”

She took a deep breath in,

“You were more than our teammate, you were our friend. So if you’re tired of us telling you that your life is a lie, we’ll tell you about your life here,”

You shrugged. You were bored. If what they said would keep you entertained, then you didn’t have a problem with it.

“I was the one who trained you with your powers. When we found you, you could hardly control them at all. You had run away from everything and everyone, trying to isolate yourself so you wouldn’t hurt anyone. The instant we saw you, we knew you were a good person. You had this look in your eyes-”

“Oh really?” You asked. “Where’s this look now?”

“Gone. Buried somewhere in your mind, along with the rest of your memories,”

You between both of them,

“Tell me why you’re really here,”

The truth was that Wanda believed she could somehow try to use her powers to get your memories back by searching through your head. She stood there, staring at you, trying to find anything that would show your old memories, but there was nothing. 

If that wouldn’t work then it couldn’t hurt if they at least attempted to tell you a little bit more about your life here.

“I was there when you controlled fire for the first time, completely on your own. You were in control. You couldn’t believe it, but all I remember is feeling so incredibly proud of you. We kept working together, and soon, I was able to call you one of my best friends.”

You could see her crying, and you began to feel for her. You weren’t sure why; she was an Avenger. An Avenger who betrayed HYDRA nonetheless, but part of you wanted to comfort her. 

“I’m sorry,” you said. You instantly regretted it. You couldn’t let them manipulate you like this.

“When I joined the team, you were the most welcoming person here. You had joined just a few weeks before me, but I could tell that everyone already loved you. It didn’t take long for me to love you too.” Carol said, her eyes filling with tears too.

They had to be lying, but you weren’t sure why part of you felt such a pull toward them. It had to be part of Wanda’s mental manipulation. That was the only explanation you could think of.

“The boy,” you began. “If what you’re saying is true, I-” you stopped yourself. “Y/N, was also close with him, right?”

“Yeah,” Wanda told you. “You and Peter become close fast. You originally bonded over TV shows you both liked, which turned into a thing for the four, and eventually five, of us to watch together,”

You still didn’t fully believe them, but if hearing about your supposed life would entertain you, then you’d keep listening.

This pattern also lasted a week. They would come in for about an hour per day, and tell you stories about your life here. 

They told you about the time Wanda decided to teach you guys how to bake. You decided that waiting for it to heat up took too much time, so you held the pan in your hands and heated it up with your powers. They ended up burning to a crisp.

They told you about the time all of Peter’s friends ended up being out of town for his school dance, so you agreed to go with him. Wanda and Carol had managed to sneak in as well, to check on the two of you but everything ended up being fine.

They told you about the time you tried to high-five Tony after a mission, and his suit registered you as a threat at first because of how you jumped up to meet him, so it ended up blasting you 20 feet. 

They told you about how you once calmed down the Hulk and turned him back into Bruce simply by smiling and waving at him. 

They told you about the time where Steve made a political comment, and you slammed your hand on the table and spent the next two hours educating him on important political topics. They said you had practically radicalized the man from the 40’s.

-

One day, neither of them came in. It was surprising, as you had actually begun to slightly enjoy their company. Slightly.

Instead, Peter came in. He looked a little less nervous than the first time, but he managed to look you in the eye.

“Y/N…” he said. 

Your stomach turned as an idea popped into your head. It was a terrible idea, and would most definitely hurt him. But it would get you out of here. It would allow you to get out, and get back to HYDRA.

“Peter!” You said, perking up in a high-pitched voice.

“Y/N?” He was confused now.

“Peter, Peter, Peter! I remember now! It’s all coming back to me! We were friends! Close friends, you were practically my brother! I remember it all!”

You strained yourself to keep your face smiling and optimistic.

He turned his head to the side, thinking about it.

It had to work. He had to believe you so he would let you out.

“Peter, I remember going with you to your dance! Your friends weren’t there, so I went with you. We ended up having a great time, especially when Wanda and Carol made an appearance too!”

He reached forward, about to open the cell when he stopped himself. 

He wanted to believe you so bad. He wanted his sister back.

“Tell me about the little boxes,” 

This had to be a code of some sort. Shit.

The Y/N they were describing seemed to be a bit clumsy, losing control of her powers and getting blasted by Tony while trying to high five him. You could picture Peter being similar to that too.

“I tripped over a bunch of tiny boxes, and then you fell right after me. We ended up laughing about it for hours,”

He sighed, looking away from you.

The truth was that little boxes were a Supergirl reference. You and Peter were both generally optimistic people, so you had confessed to each other that there was a lot of pressure with that to keep up the team’s spirits. So when you both saw Lena talk about how she uses the little boxes as her coping mechanism, you both knew it was unhealthy. 

Luckily, you came up with a healthy version. You both could keep up your optimism with the team, but you had a free pass with each other. Undoing the little boxes, if you will. 

He couldn’t bring himself to look back at you. He couldn’t believe he almost let you trick him like that. 

So he walked out without another word. 

Tony was waiting for him, and immediately pulled him in for a hug when he saw his face.

“I thought she was back for a moment,” he said. “I thought we got her back,”

Tony let out a long sigh. No one could get through to you, not even your best friends.

They only had one option left now; Natasha.

-

“You can do this, Nat,” Clint told her. 

It had been four weeks since you’d been in your cell. Over a week since anyone from the team tried talking to you. She was the only option left.

She didn’t want to do it at first, she still didn’t. 

But Clint eventually convinced her. He told her that she owed it to you to at least try. Whether it be out of her love for you, or because she hurt you, she owed it to you. 

He walked with her until they reached the door. From there, she had to go on her own.

She walked down the hall, holding her arms around herself.

She took a deep breath, then finally stepped in front of your viewpoint.

You sat with your back against the wall, eating the last bit of your lunch.

“Hey,” you said, giving a simple wave.

She tried to steady her breaths before looking directly at you.

“You were there when they took me back here,” you told her. “I remember. You were at one of the computers, and I was about to attack you and Wanda before she suspended me in the air and you guys brought me here,”

“Remember anything else?”

“No. Were you someone important? I thought they were done sending in all of Y/N’s friends,”

“We weren’t friends,”

“Oh?”

“I loved you. Part of me always will,”

“You mean to tell me that I pulled the Black Widow? Okay, now I know you guys are lying to me,”

“Peter, Wanda, and Carol were the ones who devised the big plan to get us together. They wanted to figure out a way for me to need your warmth, so you could be my personal heater. It didn’t go like that, and you accidentally burned me while we were dancing. Then I found out you liked me, and the rest is history.”

“You got with Y/N after she burned you?”

“First of all, I know you didn’t actually mean to burn me. Second of all, I had liked you for some time too. When we first met, I instantly felt this pull toward you. Your smile made me feel things I never thought I could feel. You always went out of your way to make me smile. I thought it was because you were like that with everyone; but as soon as I learned about your feelings for me, I couldn’t believe it. I called you down the next day to ask you out, and that’s when we had our first kiss,”

“Sounds great,” you said nonchalantly, knowing it hurt her. “But if you claimed to love me so much, why didn’t you look for me?”

Her breath hitched.

“Oooh, I hit a nerve there,” you said with a chuckle. “What? Did it happen in the middle of a fight or something?”

That’s when the reality of the situation hit her. Yes, she would do everything in her power to get you back, but would you still want her even when she did get you back? You were right, you had left because Natasha had broken your heart. How would she face you again once you remembered it all, once you remembered what she did to you?

So she changed the subject.

“Did the others tell you about your favorite shows?”

“They told me that we would all watch shows together, but didn’t give specifics,”

“Your favorite was Supergirl. I always thought you were a lot like the main character, Kara. You just had this sunshine in your eyes, just like her.”

“And now?”

“Well, I guess you’ll see once you get to the sixteenth episode of season one.”

“When I get to that episode? So you’re resorting to TV shows for my memory?” 

You couldn’t help but laugh, which brought her even more pain.

“I thought you wouldn’t mind the idea, I imagine it gets boring for you in here,”

“No, no, you’re right, it does. Look, if you want me to watch it, I’ll watch it, but…” you burst into laughter again. 

It was pathetic how the Black Widow was so determined to get her sweet little Y/N back. 

But, you were willing to let her try. You couldn’t wait to see it crash and burn.

-

“You really think I’m like Kara?” You asked her the next day as she came to see you. “I’m five episodes in, and she’s the most annoying character ever.”

Natasha sighed. She’d get you back eventually. 

“Look, I’m just saying that they could’ve made her more interesting. Like, she has the potential to do so much more but instead all she does is be giddy and fake quirky.”

The truth was, part of the reason you had loved Kara so much originally was because you were able to relate to her in a way because of your powers. She suppressed them for years, just as you had tried to, but eventually embraced them and became Supergirl. Even if it was fictional, it’s a big part of the reason you found the courage to learn how to use your powers and become an Avenger. And of course, you did happen to have a personality just like hers. 

Now, all you could do was roll your eyes at the character. 

A few days later, Wanda eventually came back. She had a few brownies with her. 

“What’s this for?” You asked her.

“You wanted to surprise Natasha with something sweet after she came back from a mission, but you couldn’t do it on your own. You had already made three failed batches, so you knocked on my door at 2:00 in the morning asking for help. I wanted to say no, because I was asleep and didn’t want to get up. But I saw the look on your face, and I just couldn’t say no to you. So I got up and helped you make them. They ended up turning out, and Natasha loved them.”

“And you’re giving me this because you think it’ll jog my memory?”

“Partially, but it’s also because I still care about you, Y/N. Even while you’re like this, I know my best friend is in there somewhere. I made them, and it didn’t feel right not to try at least,”

You shrugged as she slipped them through the opening to give them to you. 

You took a bite, and instantly closed your eyes at the taste.

“Oh my god, Wands, this is amazing,” you told her as soon as you swallowed.

She had the biggest smile on her face. Not because you liked the brownies, but because you called her Wands. 

You were coming back. 

-

Two weeks later, Natasha was making her daily trip to you. You smiled at her, happy almost happy to see her.

“God, Lena’s so pretty,” you said to her. “Her eyes are just perfection,”

Natasha let out a chuckle,

“Glad to see you still have an appreciation for green eyes,”

“How could I not? I really hope Kara gets with her,”

She laughed again,

“Come on, I have a surprise for you,”

“What?”

She smiled, then unlocked your cell door. You turned your head, giving her a confused look.

She stepped into your cell, holding a bracelet of some sort.

“As much as I’d like to fully trust you to take you outside of your cell, I can’t. So this replicates the energy in this room, keeping you from using your powers,”

You shrugged, then held out your arm for her to put it on. 

Once it was secure, she motioned for you to follow her. 

She led you through the compound, resisting the urge to grab your hand and interlace your fingers with hers. She knew you would come back eventually, and all she wanted to do was hold you in her arms when you did. 

“Anything look familiar?” She asked with a hopeful tone. 

You felt a pit in your stomach as you shook your head no. You gave an apologetic look, then continued following her. 

She said nothing, continuing to lead you through the compound until she opened a door, leading up to the roof. 

She gave you a smile, then turned her head toward a blanket and pillows with a basket full of food.

“What’s this for?” You asked as you sat down across from her.

“I dunno, I wanted to do something for you. You’ve been confined to that cell for so long, I figured it’d be nice to bring you up here,”

She reached into the basket, then handed you a peanut butter sandwich. 

Her smile widened as you took a bite out of it, and you couldn’t help but return her smile. 

She reached across, and placed her hand on yours. 

“I’m sorry,” she said immediately, starting to pull it back. You gripped it tighter so she wouldn’t pull back.

“It’s okay,”

You didn’t have your memories, but you knew that you and Natasha were a thing. It amazed you how the woman with a deadly reputation gave you such a soft smile. 

Holding her hand felt familiar. It felt like home. 

And you loved hated it.

“Why are you doing this, Natasha?” You asked her, rubbing small circles on the back of her hand. “Don’t tell me it’s just another effort to jog my memory,”

She looked down at your intertwined hands for a moment before meeting your eyes again.

“Because I love you,” she said honestly. “You were my everything, Y/N,”

You smiled at her again, feeling fluttery nerves build up in your stomach.

So you muttered something in Kryptonian.

“What was that?”

She pulled away, staring at you wide-eyed.

“What?” You asked, disappointed she pulled her hand away.

“You didn’t learn that from HYDRA,”

“What are you talking about?”

“What you just said to me, it’s a made up language,”

“All languages are made up,”

“No,” she rolled her eyes. “It’s Kryptonian, from Supergirl. You and Peter taught yourselves the language from online websites. You always called me that after you learned it. You’re remembering,”

She grabbed your hand once again, then leaned in closer. You reached out and grabbed her other hand, so you had both of your hands connected to hers between the two of you. 

“My beautiful sunset,” you said in English this time. 

She leaned forward even closer, inches away from closing the gap between yourselves. 

“Wait,” you told her, pulling back. “I don’t have all my memories, but I know that we were together.” She nodded for you to continue. “I also know that there was some sort of fight before HYDRA. I need to know what happened, Natasha,”

Her breath became shaky as she disconnected your hands,

“Not now,”

“No, I want to know. I need to know. Because as much as I hate it, I’m feeling something for you. But I don’t want to, especially if I don’t know what happened. So tell me,”

She took a deep breath in, then stood up.

“I think we’ve spent enough time here, let’s take you back,”

“No! Just tell me what happened!” 

“Don’t worry about it, let’s just go back.”

“Why are you being so defensive?”

“I’m not!”

“You are,”

“Y/N I told you, don’t worry about it!”

“Natasha,” you challenged. “Tell me what’s going on right now.”

“I can’t.” 

-

That was three days ago, and Natasha hadn’t come to see you since. You missed her. 

You had continued to binge your way through Supergirl, almost finishing the fifth season.

“I killed my brother for you! For our friends, don’t you understand what you’ve done?” You quoted perfectly. It didn’t surprise you at this point. You had those memories, and they would show up. But you couldn’t think about any past memories, sometimes they just showed up; like this scene and like the Kryptonian.

Your thoughts were interrupted as you looked up to see a man you hadn’t talked to before,

“Ah, the Winter Snowman,”

“Winter what now?”

You laughed, turning your body to fully face him.

“I know who you are. HYDRA’s beloved Winter Soldier. I just think Winter Snowman is funnier. So, what brings you here?”

“I haven’t talked to you yet,”

“Why’s that? Did we not like each other or something?”

“We were friends,” he told you, looking at the floor. “Once, I was up in the middle of the night because of nightmares, and you happened to be up too for whatever reason. You saw me, and made me hot chocolate. When you saw that I wasn’t exactly okay, you hugged me until my breathing evened out and I was okay. After that, it became a routine for you to make hot chocolate every time I wasn’t doing so great. Sometimes we’d sit in silence, and sometimes I’d talk to you. But you were always there. I could always trust you.”

You smiled, realizing that you really were an incredibly nice person before HYDRA. 

“So why haven’t you come to see me yet? Natasha’s been the most, except for the last few days. What’s been stopping you?”

He took a deep breath in,

“I came to apologize.”

“Apologize? What for?”

“I’m part of the reason this happened to you. I’m part of the reason you left.”

“Really? I thought that was Natasha. All I know is that something happened between her and me and she won’t tell me,”

“She did hurt you, through me if you think about it. I still hate myself for it. I’m so, so, sorry, Y/N. I don’t know what came over me, but all I know is that I would take it back if I could.”

“No. Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

“I’m so sorry.”

He left as all the pain and emotion came to your chest. You could see your vision blurring as tears started to form. 

“No,” you said softly, falling to your knees. 

Your breathing got heavier as you practically crawled to the glass.

“Get me Natasha!” You cried, banging your fists against the wall. “I want Natasha here!”

Tears began to stream down your face as you continued banging. You weren’t sure how long it was like that, but she eventually came running. 

F.R.I.D.A.Y. had alerted her that you were in distress and calling for you. She assumed you had somehow gotten hurt, especially since you were huddled on the floor.

She opened the door without hesitation and sat down next to you.

“I’m here,” she said gently.

“Tell me it’s not true,” you said, your voice breaking.

Her heart dropped.

“Tell me you didn’t make me think what we had was real, just for you to cheat on me with Bucky. Tell me you didn’t make me fall in love with you for it to be fake.”

“It wasn’t fake, Y/N. I did love you! I still do.”

You scooted away from her.

“Stop lying. Just tell me the truth; did you or did you not cheat on me with Bucky?”

She let out a few shaky breaths, feeling her own tears form.

“I did.” You let out a sob at her words. “I did and I regret it more than anything. I don’t know what came over me. All I know is that I want you and I wish I never did it,”

You let out a few more sobs as you cried harder. 

Out of instinct, she leaned forward and wrapped her arms around you as you sobbed into her chest.

“No.” You told her. “Get away from me. I don’t want comfort from the person who’s the reason for my pain.”

She nodded, wiping her own tears away.

“Y/N, it was the biggest mistake of my life. I’ll never forgive myself for it, but I still love you so much. You’re everything to me,”

You stood up, your harsh glare meeting her once again.

“You were right, Natasha,” you said to her. “I am like Kara. Because just like her, I gave my heart to a lying jackass. Get out and get away from me.”

You weren’t sure why it hurt so bad. You hardly had any of your memories together. But part of you knew that you loved her. Part of your mind never stopped loving her, even while you couldn’t remember her. 

Sobs escaped your body as you held your knees to your chest. Natasha hated seeing you like this. She hated it even more so because she was the reason for it. 

She wanted nothing more than to comfort you and hold you until you felt better. But she knew she couldn’t.

As she took a step toward the door, she glanced at you one last time, wondering if she truly lost you forever.

-

Carol came by to see you after she saw both Natasha and Bucky sulking. 

Like Natasha, she had no problem entering the cell and sitting by you. Steve had advised everyone to keep a safe distance from you as your memories were still primarily HYDRA. He wanted you to fully come back just as much as everyone else did, but he couldn’t risk the safety of the team. 

But as soon as she saw your red eyes and tear-struck cheeks, she could give two shits about Steve’s warning.

She sat down next to you on the bed, gently putting a hand on your back to let you know that she was there.

You practically jumped into her arms, allowing yourself to cry once more as you clung onto her. 

You sobbed into her chest for a few minutes as she slowly stroked your back. 

“Sorry,” you muttered, pulling away from her. “I think I might’ve ruined your shirt,”

She gave a soft laugh, then wrapped an arm around you. 

“Don’t worry about it,”

“Why’d she put so much effort into getting my memories back if she knew I would find out and get hurt all over again?” 

Carol sighed, gently squeezing your shoulder. 

“I think part of her hoped, and is still hoping, that you’d forgive her,”

You scoffed,

“Once a cheater, always a cheater. Even if I remember everything, I’m not getting back with her. God, no wonder I left in the first place,”

“We were all worried about you, y’know. You left without a word. Tony tracked your phone, and found it shattered on the street a few blocks from here. We thought it meant you didn’t want to be found.” She told you. “If we knew you had been taken by HYDRA, we never would’ve stopped looking,”

“What happened while I was gone?”

“We all knew it had something to do with Natasha. She always acted like she was fine, but her eyes were constantly red and puffy. We also heard crying from her bedroom. A week or so later, she blew up at Bucky in front of everyone, so we all found out,”

“What happened then?”

“We hated them for it. We wanted nothing to do with them. I glared at Natasha any chance I got. How could she do that to you? I lost my best friend because of her,”

You let out a sniffle, then looked up at her to see that she had started crying too.

“I’m sorry for leaving you,” you said, hugging her once again. “I don’t clearly remember it, I have bits and pieces. But I should’ve at least talked to you guys instead of leaving like that,”

“It’s okay. You’re here now, and I’m not giving up on you.”

-

A week later, to your own surprise, you had called for Natasha again. 

Both Wanda and Peter had made individual visits to you. You were grateful for them as they hugged you tight. 

Wanda had suggested that you talk to her one last time to get some closure. She also said that it could help with your memory.

You were reluctant to the idea at first, but eventually agreed as you realized that the memory process was getting you nowhere at this point.

So you stood by the glass, waiting. 

When she arrived, she almost couldn’t believe that you wanted her there. She thought that maybe you just wanted to scream at her, but then she saw your calm and collected face.

“I only called you here ‘cause Wanda thinks getting some closure could help with the memories,” you explained right away. You didn’t want her thinking that you had forgiven her.

She nodded, biting her tongue to prevent herself from crying. 

You pointed to the door, indicating that you wanted her to come in. 

She nodded again, opening it and standing a few feet away from you, arms crossed. 

“I just need some answers,”

“Okay,”

You inhaled deeply, closing your eyes. You balled your fists, feeling your nails against your palms.

“Why did you do it?”

“I wish I knew.”

“Oh come on, you have to at least give me more than that,”

“I’m sorry, Y/N, but I genuinely don’t know why I did it.”

“Then tell me how it happened,”

“Are you sure? You said that this could be helpful for your memories, but I don’t want this to cause you any more pain than you already have,”

“I’m sure. Just tell me,”

“Alright,” she let out a slow breath. “You were on your way back from a mission. I had been missing you, so I was staying up late so I could see you as soon as you landed.” Her voice began to shake, but you motioned for her to continue. “While I was waiting, I assumed I was the only one up. So I decided to pour myself a drink, since there was still about an hour and a half before you’d get back. Bucky ended up coming down a few minutes later, so I poured him a drink too.”

“Really? You’re using the drinking excuse?”

She didn’t reply to you, but continued anyway.

“Something didn’t feel right, physically. I wasn’t sure what it was, but I ignored it and instead focused on how I would be seeing you soon. After around 30 minutes, something really felt off. I was about to get up and try to do something about it, but he got up at the same time. One minute we were just standing there, the next we were kissing. I wasn’t sure what had come over me. I didn’t know why I was doing it, but I didn’t stop. After it happened, I felt sick about it; literally. My eyes had turned red, and I just felt so nauseous-”

“I remember that,” you interrupted her. “I remember you had red eyes and weren’t feeling good. I thought you had gotten a cold, so I took time off training to stay with you. Of course, it was just you feeling guilty about being a cheater,”

“I couldn’t face what I had done-”

You interrupted her again,

“Wait a minute, you said you had red eyes and something felt wrong while you were with Bucky, right?” You said, she nodded in response. “Did the drink taste normal?”

She shook her head no,

“It didn’t, but I didn’t really focus on that. I was busy thinking about seeing you again,”

“Who all has access to the drinks?” You asked, your heart rate quickening.

“What are you talking about?”

“Just, take me to the security room and let’s look at the tapes for around that time, but a bit before,”

She wasn’t sure where you were going with this, but she opened the door anyway.

“You’re not gonna restrain my powers?” You asked as you had made it around halfway down the hall.

She shrugged,

“I don’t think you’re gonna hurt me or anyone here,”

You returned her shrug, then walked ahead of her until you reached the security room.

Once you arrived, you smiled, realizing that you had made it there on your own from your memories of this place. 

You sat down in front of a computer, and began typing away at the security tapes. 

“There’s a missing one, a few hours before,”

She turned her head in confusion.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y.” she said, “Do everything you can to retrieve this file,”

“Right away, Miss Romanoff,”

“If I’m right then…” you began, but didn’t finish. You didn’t want to get your hopes up. 

A few minutes later, F.R.I.D.A.Y. found the deleted file.

You pressed play, showing what had happened that day.

The HYDRA agent had memorized everyone’s schedule. The majority of the most powerful Avengers were currently on a mission, and the others were training; so this was the window.

He had hotwired a car Tony had left at a bar parking lot, when he was too drunk to drive and had to be taken home by a taxi, and then forgetting about the car altogether.

The agent used this to pull in without security questioning it. 

He made his way to the back of the building, then spotted a slightly cracked window. He used that as his opportunity, reaching his hands under to fully open it up. 

Once he climbed in, he then went to the kitchen. 

Due to training schedules and timing, it was likely that no one would be drinking tonight except for the target. 

So he took the bottle, opened it, then sprinkled a powder into it. 

He then closed it, and put it back where he left it before leaving the room and coming to erase his tracks.

“HYDRA’s told us about that powder before and the effects of it, it makes you susceptible to suggestion. They’ve modified it so they can give specific commands just from taking it.”

“So what does that mean,”

“They knew we were together, they knew I had powers. They knew I’d be devastated if you cheated, and hoped that maybe I’d leave.” You started, staring at her with a mixed expression. “It’s starting to come back to me, the fire alarms had gone off that night. That was their signal that it had worked, and I was hurt. They took that to their advantage, and found me in my devastated state and took me.”

“What are you saying, Y/N?”

You smiled. It was the same smile you used to give her before everything happened. You took a step toward her and cupped her cheeks.

“You didn’t cheat.”

-

Your moment was short lived as you instantly fell to your knees, hands around your head.

Everything was coming back to you now.

“It’s pathetic, and never gonna happen!” 

“Oh come on, you guys aren’t gonna actually freeze the room, right?”

“Oh my gosh, um- it’s not what it sounds like! I promise, it’s-”

“You should watch Supergirl with me,”

“Can you not go easy on your girlfriend during training?”

“Of course I’ll be your personal heater,”

“Natasha… I love you. I really do. It’s okay if you don’t wanna say it back, but I thought you should know.”

“My beautiful sunset,”

“You’re my home,”

“Natty,” it was the first time using that nickname since you’d been back here. “Natty, I remember everything now,”

She bent down to you, running a hand through your hair.

To say she was relieved was an understatement; she had just found out that the biggest mistake of her life wasn’t even her fault, that she didn’t betray you like she thought she had. And, the love of her life had finally completely come back to her.

You instantly began crying, leaning your forehead against hers, wrapping your arms around her neck.

Without thinking, you crashed your lips onto hers. It wasn’t a pretty kiss by any means; it was desperate, and wet with tears. But neither of you seemed to care.

“I love you so much,” you said between kisses. “I’m so sorry for everything I said to you.”

“It’s okay, you didn’t know, no one did,” she wrapped her arms even tighter. “I love you too.”

If either of you had been thinking straight, you would have alerted the team that you had gotten your memories back and didn’t need to be locked up anymore. 

But you weren’t. All that was on either of your minds was making up for lost time. 

She picked you up effortlessly, holding you tight. You wrapped your legs around her waist, keeping your lips on her skin. 

She carried you all the way back to her (and now yours once again) room. 

Once she set you on the bed, she reconnected your lips in a messy but meaningful kiss. 

She crawled on top of you, planting kisses everywhere. 

“I love you,” you told her again.

“And I love you,”

And those were all the words either of you needed right now as you continued showing each other just how much you loved and missed one another.

-

Hours later, you lay on the bed completely wrapped around her. Your face was buried in her neck as your limbs tangled with each other.

You both shot straight up at a knock to her door. 

“Natasha,” came the voice of Steve. “Y/N’s missing.”

“About that…” she said. “There’s a lot I need to tell you guys.”

She hopped off the bed, keeping her hand connected with yours. 

You met Steve’s worried eyes when she opened the door, tightening your grip on Natasha. 

The conversation with the team ended up going well. Everyone apologized for how they had been toward Natasha and Bucky after learning that it wasn’t their fault. 

And of course, they were ecstatic that you were back.

Carol, Wanda and Peter, ran toward you and all tried to hug you at once, resulting in a dog pile. Eventually, everyone else joined too, only making the pile bigger. 

You met Bucky’s eyes, and gave him a smile. He seemed relieved, then smiled back at you. 

The rest of the day, everyone continued making sure you were okay, and Tony had already started a plan for finding that HYDRA agent. 

Bruce wanted to do a checkup, which you agreed to. Natasha held your hand the entire time, which made it a lot harder for him to do what he needed to. Despite this, he couldn’t bring himself to tell her to stop. You had both suffered so much these past few months, so if you wanted to hold hands right now, then so be it.

“Y’know,” Natasha began, pulling you into her lap. “We haven’t had a proper date in so long. Obviously it’s too late to go anywhere, but we can have a night in and watch last week's episode of Supergirl if you’d like. I haven’t watched it since the last time, and I really have missed my favorite blanket. So, what do you think?”

You turned around, kissing her instantly. It was a long, deep, needed kiss. You couldn’t get enough of each other now that you were back.

Once you pulled apart for air, she smirked at you.

“So I’ll take that as a yes, then?”

[imagining-in-the-margins]

Devil’s Advocate (S.R.)

Summary: Spencer’s been hooking up with the defense attorney in secret. At some point what was purely physical turned into something else. Request: Spencer and reader (a defense attorney) are fuck buddies for a while. One day she gets hurt/scared so she calls Spencer on instinct- He shows up, fluff + epiphany + confession Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader Category: Comfort/Fluff, RATED T (16+) Content Warning: References to sex, sexual relationship, harassment, violence against Reader (not graphic), bruising, mutual pining, very brief mentions of losing children/family and murder/death Word Count: 4.3k

MASTERLIST

Rules are fickle, funny things. I’ve always been interested in them. From the laws that I built my career on, to the social traditions that ensure I’m never appropriately compensated for said work, I’ve studied and defied pretty much every rule I’ve ever encountered.

All but one. In the grand scheme of things, it probably wouldn’t seem like a very important rule. In fact, it’s exactly the type of rule that they write about breaking in romantic comedies and cheesy teenage magazines.

It was a semi-self-imposed rule of sorts. A mutual agreement reached between two people that came to a respectful understanding following one too many failed attempts at happiness. It should have been a simple rule to follow.

Don’t fall in love with Spencer Reid.

In retrospect, I should’ve known that things would be different when we weren’t stuck on opposite sides of the courtroom bench. I didn’t really realize the magnitude of my mistake until it was two hours past midnight, and I was watching Spencer struggle to stay upright with one foot in his pants leg.

“What are you doing?” I groaned through my inevitable laughter.

“As much as you don’t mind me without pants,” he explained matter-of-factly, right before nearly escaping busting his ass on my bedroom floor, “I think the general public prefers me with them on.”

“Only because they don’t know better,” I countered. I’d deemed myself the winner of the exchange all the way up until he flashed me that damned smile that always broke me down.  

“You’re cute,” was all he’d had to say, and I had lost. The butterflies erupting in my stomach cheered his name, and I tried to drown out the sound by clearing my throat that felt full with my heartbeat.

“Seriously though, Spencer, just stay here tonight. It’s 2AM.”

“You know the rules.”

My least favorite sentence.

“Fuck the rules!” I whined, earning a smile from the man who still continued to prepare his exit. “I can’t sleep with you if you die after you fall asleep at the wheel!”

He cleverly dodged the topic with a playfulness that never failed to make me smile. Abandoning his efforts to leave, Spencer took a long pause to approach me again. He leaned over my naked figure only barely covered by the sheet and said in that low, silky tone, “I never thought I’d hear a lawyer telling me to ‘fuck the rules.’”

“Well, you’ve already fucked me, so...” I tried to joke without giving away just how much his proximity affected me. It didn’t work.

“Is that what this is about?” he asked while continuing to tower over me. The closer he leaned in, the more his unruly curls tickled my face. The squirming it induced seemed to only encourage his teasing, because he sounded positively delighted as he purred, “Did I not wear you out enough? Are you unsatisfied, sweetheart?”

“Stop it. I’m worried about you!” I answered with a firm smack on his shoulder. It did nothing to dissuade him. Despite being the one to remind me of the rules just seconds before, he didn’t seem to mind breaking them by littering my jaw and neck with kisses that were filled with far too much adoration.

“My concern for you is not me breaking the rules. It’s me being a decent human being,” I defended, while struggling to pull him and his distracting affections away. When that didn’t work, I resorted to allowing the giggles to do it for me as I screeched, “Cut it out!”

He finally stopped, albeit with an adorable, cheeky little grin.

I needed some way to regain the upper hand. To demonstrate to the both of us that I wasn’t the only one who’d started to lose sight of the deal we’d struck in the first place.

“Speaking of rules — why do you get away with calling me sweetheart? We said no pet names.”

Like the clever boy he was, he had already anticipated the answer and his reply. It was simple, but effective.

“Because you like it,” he teased.  

I like you, I corrected, to myself. That was a terrifying enough thought to convince me that he’d been right to leave. No matter how badly I hadn’t wanted him to.

“Will you at least text me when you get home?” I asked, unworried about the vulnerability in the request because the need to have explicit knowledge of his safety meant more to me than any potential humiliation that might follow.

But knowing that didn’t make it hurt any less when he shrugged.

“Yeah, if I remember before I fall asleep.”

If I remember, said the man with an eidetic memory.

I don’t think he’d meant it to be a taunt, but that’s exactly what it felt like. A firm reminder that he’d forget me by the time he finished the short drive to his apartment. That it was so fucking simple for him to shake the memory of me from his mind, no matter how beautiful I tried to make them.

“Goodnight, Spencer,” I said with as much false stoicism as I could muster.

“Goodnight, sweetheart.”

Maybe it was nothing but foolish hoping, but it almost felt like he was doing the same.  

There was nothing quite like a phone call in the dead of the night to remind you that you were hopelessly falling for your hookup. Every single time my damned phone rang past 10:00PM, I would attempt to answer the phone so enthusiastically, that half the time, I’d drop it.

That time the call came in at midnight, and I felt my hopes rising like steam from a kettle. Somehow, I managed to drop my register from the high-pitched squealing I’d kept bottled up inside.

“Hey Spencer, I was wondering if I’d hear from you this week.”

I’d expected him to say many things — really, he was a hard one to predict — but I had never expected the childlike excitement that burst through the receiver.

“You’ll never guess what I found!”

“... What?” It was as much an expression of confusion as it was a genuine question, although he hadn’t seemed to catch the former.

“I found that first edition copy of the manuscript I was telling you about!”

“Oh! You’ve been looking for that for months!”

“I know! I just heard back from the archivist and he said I can come look at it next month,” he squealed, and my heart started to melt at the sound.

He really was just too goddamn cute.

“Wow, that’s really cool, Spencer,” I giggled. While he should have probably been unnerved by the sound in response to his genuine enthusiasm, he was still a little bit distracted.

“Do you want to come? You mentioned you were interested in it before.”

Finding that the answer ‘absolutely not, that sounds so dry’ was just a bit too rude, I squeaked back a hesitant, “Did I?” instead. I could already hear his disappointment over the phone, so I quickly followed up with a much more enthusiastic, “I-I’m not sure. We’ll have to see what my caseload is like then.”

The silence, although remarkably brief despite the company I’d chosen, stirred some unsettled feeling in my stomach. I found myself rearranging plans and dates in my head, trying to find some way to promise my time to him over a month in advance. I barely stopped myself in time. With a firm metaphorical slap on the wrist, I brought the conversation back to where it should have been.

Spencer Reid wasn’t my boyfriend, and he wasn’t entitled to my time. We had a system. There were rules for a reason.

“Anyway, when are you coming over? Should I unlock the door for you?”

That time, I wasn’t the one breaking an awkward silence.

“Oh. I’m actually... not coming over.”      

To hide the heartbreak with an uncomfortable laugh, I muttered through the side of my mouth, “Why not? Was it something I said?”

“I’m in California. Sorry, I didn’t think about the time difference,” he answered a bit too nonchalantly for my comfort.

Speaking of comfort, there was a disconcerting implication to the phone call if it hadn’t been for any of our usual trysts. The silence stretched on, carrying a heavy, anxious energy with it.

“Then why did you call me?” I finally asked.

“I don’t know. I thought you might be interested and I wanted to share the news,” he explained. I could practically see him shrugging as he grumbled, “Pretty sure everyone else would just make fun of me for getting excited about a stack of old papers.”

The grumpy, insecure little boy in him always made me laugh. Too easy to tease, he was.

“I was planning on doing that, too, for the record,” I sarcastically hummed to the tune of his laughter bubbling over from thousands of miles away.  

“I expect nothing less.”

The next silence was more comfortable, but in a way that still mostly hurt. After all, it was a reminder that as soon as the phone call ended — which it should have done by now — we would both be alone again, even if we wished we weren’t.

“Okay, well... if that’s all,” I sighed. Tearing the band-aid off so that I could go lick my metaphorical wounds.

Spencer, on the other hand, didn’t seem nearly as heartbroken by the suggested absence.

“Right! It’s late there,” he chirped. Then, before I could get a word in edgewise, he cheekily called, “Goodnight, sweetheart.”

And even though I shouldn’t have, I smiled.

There is no time quite like an emergency to realize that you have no friends. To have that realization to be paired with the sounding of sirens and the bitter taste of iron and regret.

I scrolled through my entire contact history three times over before I gave up and hit the one name that I knew I shouldn’t call. Then, upon remembering that I was a blubbering mess, I immediately hung up and sent a text instead.

“Do you think you could come pick me up from the marketplace?”

Seconds later, his name lit up my screen in a call that was rejected before the first ring finished.

“I’m fine. I just need a ride. I’ll explain when you get here,” I sent in response.

“On my way,” he answered before the screen had even started to dim.

I knew he was angry, but I was too tired to deal with it. There were so many justifiable reasons for his temper. Reasons he should be angry. I wasn’t supposed to text him for things like this. We weren’t friends. I definitely shouldn’t call him unprompted, or without a detailed explanation. We’d made rules, and I’d always been the stickler for following them.

But when Spencer showed up, his anger didn’t seem directed at me in the slightest. He hardly looked angry at all when he saw me, despite his eyes shooting wide open as he bolted through the small crowd of people to join me on the curb of the parking lot median.

“Hey, are you alright?” he yelled, even when he was close enough to whisper. When I flinched from the sound, he dropped his volume significantly, but the worry remained. “What the hell happened?”

It made my stomach sink.

“It’s nothing,” I muttered, continuing to cover the swollen side of my face with my hand. “I’m sorry, I don’t know why I called you. It’s seriously nothing.”

Spencer’s flabbergasted scoff would’ve been funny if not for the disaster in the background.

“Nothing?! Your windshield is smashed and you have a bloody lip, that’s not nothing at all. That is very much something!”

“Calm down. I’m fine.”

“We have very different understandings of the word ‘fine,’” he snapped. That time, I couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Ugh. I know.”

Behind him, though, reality came calling. The officer who had gone to grab a new pen had returned to bother me some more, and as much as I wanted Spencer to stay, I knew it was a bad idea. It wasn’t that I was going to lie, or that he would be hostile to the investigation. I was just… ashamed. Of what, I wasn’t exactly sure. I hadn’t done anything wrong. Other than be a defense attorney, that was.

“Can you give me a second to finish answering this gentleman’s questions?” I asked, gesturing to the cop who was probably just as happy to see me suffering as the person who’d punched me in the first place.

Spencer turned away from me, but I saw the disgust on his face clear as day. He glanced over at my car again, too, but that sight just made him sad.

“Fine,” he conceded with a surprising amount of grace, “But I’m giving you a ride home.”

“Fine! Go wait in the car then.”

The poor man sulked and grumbled the whole way. Every few steps, he would look back at me over his shoulder, checking to make sure that I was watching him. I suspect if I’d given him any leeway, he would have been back at my side in a matter of seconds.

But I didn’t want him to be here. I had called him, yes, but I was halfway hoping that I would’ve been able to avoid this scene altogether. I’d wanted to just flee the scene of my own humiliation and let my insurance work the rest out.

I hadn’t done anything wrong, but the cop’s questions didn’t make me feel that way. When he asked me what I’d done to provoke the seemingly normal, respectable man, I had to tell him the truth.

I’d defended the man who he thought murdered his children, and he was acquitted last week. That was all it was. An understandable anger. A justifiable rage. Grief knew no bounds, and when it came to laying blame, I was an easy target.

I couldn’t blame him. I’d hate me, too.

That was why I didn’t fight or argue the claims. I made it my mission to sound as unbothered as possible, and to go through the motions in a way that would put the matter to rest. I could just buy a new windshield. My lip would mend itself and the world would be better now that some catharsis was reached.

When I climbed into Spencer’s car, the last thing I’d expected was more negativity.

“What are you doing?”

Only halfway into the vehicle, I froze as I mumbled, “Uh... accepting your offer for a ride home?”

“You shouldn’t be done yet,” he explained.

“Oh, right. That.”

It cleared up enough of my concerns that I didn’t feel worried when I took my seat. The man next to me, however, seemed increasingly concerned. Especially when he got the proper answer he was looking for.

“I didn’t press charges.”

“What do you mean you didn’t press charges?!”

I’d been expecting it, but still had to cover my ears as his shouting echoed in the car. He seemed to regret making my headache worse, but I knew it wasn’t his fault.

He always worried about me too much.

“They already buried both of their children,” I said with a sigh, “I think they’ve lost enough.”

I should’ve known better than to expect him to take their side. Still, I saw the struggle in every part of him. He shifted back and forth in his seat almost like he was actively debating himself in his head.

“That wasn’t your fault,” he announced when he’d finally come to his conclusion. It was a sweet sentiment, but we’d both already known that to be true.

“Yeah, I know, but it’s a lot easier to blame me than accept that they’re gone.”

But when Spencer looked at me again, with those goddamn eyes filled with nothing but admiration and tenderness, I broke. For the first time since it happened, I broke down in tears that only stung more in his company.

“This was so stupid,” I said between sobs, “I shouldn’t have tried to talk to them. I should have just left. I’m sorry.”

The world felt like it was crumbling to pieces around me, but Spencer remained. His hand pulled one of mine away from my face so that he could keep me tethered to him. The harder I squeezed, the softer his voice became. I could barely hear him over the sound of sniffling and weeping that had been kept bottled up for too long.

But the longer I heard him, the more I started to believe him.

“You didn’t do anything wrong.”

That made me laugh. A short, bitter chuckle that was closer to a scoff. I looked at him with tired, red-rimmed eyes as I so politely reminded him, “I am literally the devil’s advocate.”

But then he asked me a question I still hadn’t expected. “Do you think he did it?”

It seemed like such a ridiculous question to ask me at that moment that I didn’t even know how to answer. But then he asked again, with more force behind the words begging for an answer.

“Your client. Do you think he was guilty?”

“I know he wasn’t,” I said without thinking. Then, I backtracked, smoothing out my hair and trying to pretend like I wasn’t having a breakdown in my fuckbuddy’s car. Trying to muster up some facade of dignity for his sake when I corrected, “I mean, I can never really know, but the evidence really didn’t add up and when he looked me in the eyes, I saw…”

The thought couldn’t continue the way I’d wanted it to. Not when I looked over to the man beside me and saw the exact same look I was trying to put into words. I saw the suffering of a man not believed. I saw someone facing charges and accusations he wasn’t able to remember but knew himself incapable of.

When I’d looked at my client, I saw Spencer. I saw him fighting to reclaim his own mind and his hands that were forever scarred by the memory of evil he’d never be entirely sure he hadn’t committed.

“What did you see?” he asked, but he already knew the answer.

“I could never believe he did the things they said he did.”

There was a gentle, almost imperceptible quirk to the corner of his lips as he whispered, “Then you aren’t working for the devil, (y/n).”

He must’ve seen the disbelief in my eyes, because he continued to speak with an increasing level of spirit, “You are surrounded by evil all the time. You walk into it knowing what is going to happen, but unlike me you... You aren’t trying to hunt them. You protect people. Even the worst people, just in case there is still good somewhere in them.”

Just like always, his hands became clumsier the longer he spoke. He spoke passionately and with his whole body. He pulled my hands to his chest and pressed my palm against his heart like it was trying to tell me something, too.

But then he looked into my eyes, and everything else faded away.

“You aren’t working for the devil,” he said in a tone so genuine I was forced to believe him. “If anything, the devil should be very scared of you.”

And I did believe him. I believed that when he looked at me, he saw something I couldn’t. Something admirable and worthy of kindness. That was enough to help me survive the relatively quiet car trip back to my apartment.

Spencer kept my hand in his the whole ride, and neither of made any mention of it. His thumb drew delicate patterns over my hand until it finally stopped shaking from the adrenaline. Until I knew that I was safe.

But then we were back in my apartment, and I knew he had to leave. There was no reason to justify him staying. We both knew I wouldn’t want to have sex in my current state, and that was our rule.

He had nothing else to gain from sitting with me while I cried.

“I’m gonna go... wash my face. You don’t have to wait up,” I said with an awkward half-wave. I waited until I was out of his sight before I called, “Thanks for the ride.”

He didn’t answer. I knew that it was better that way.

I didn’t cry as I got ready for bed, even when the soap and alcohol stung my split lip. I looked at the mottled colors of my skin where the man’s fist had made contact and I cringed. It suddenly made more sense to me why Spencer was worried. You’d have to be a psychopath not to be concerned with the sight.

I’d almost managed to convince myself that his responses that evening had been nothing more than the level of sympathetic understanding he would’ve had for a stranger in the same situation.

But then I rounded the corner back into my living room, and I saw that he’d barely moved.

“Oh... you’re still here,” I started, only to be swiftly cut off by a question asked with an astounding amount of confidence.  

“Can I stay here tonight?”

My answer was significantly less sure.

“Is this a trick question?”

“No, it’s not,” he said, then immediately repeated, “Can I stay here tonight? With you?”

Convinced it was a trick despite his assurance to the contrary, I questioned back, “Why?”

In what was emerging as a rather frustrating pattern, Spencer returned with yet another question.

“Why did you call me?”

“I-I could ask you the same question,” I stammered. The insecurity was bleeding through, and I tried and failed at putting on a convincing show of advocacy. I laughed uncomfortably, speaking words I knew were digging me a hole I’d rather not lie in. I couldn’t stop myself.

“But you won’t answer, either. Because that would break the rules, and you’re too good for that.”

Spencer bit down on his lip hard enough that his jaw and nose twitched from the pain inflicted. He turned to me with enough resolve to demolish the walls I’d so carefully built between us with just one glance. A glance that turned into a battle of wills.

Then he did something I would have never predicted.

Spencer Reid raised a white flag.

“I called you because I wanted to hear your voice. I got good news during a horrible day and I knew that if I could make you laugh... if I could hear that, everything would be better.”

Time seemed to stop and stretch on forever. My heartbeat was pounding in my ears that still rang from the sirens. I heard the ticking of the clock on the wall to remind me that I wasn’t in a dream.

“Was it?” I asked quietly, “Better?”

His lips remained flat and his eyes distant, but he still provided an answer filled with so much tenderness that it made my whole body ache.

“Yes,” he said. “It always is when I’m with you.”

I wanted to give him the same feeling of being seen. Understood and cared for. I wanted to tell him exactly how I felt, but when I tried, my throat closed in on itself.

“I called you because—“

As I choked on the words, I saw him suffer the pain. I saw him be wounded by every second that I was too afraid to tell him how I’d felt. Especially after he’d done the hardest part for us already.

I had to try. For him.

“Because when I’m with you I feel safe,” I blurted out all at once, “I feel safe, and happy, and...”

But the word I was too terrified to say came out of his mouth with just as much fear but none of the doubt that it hadn’t been true.

“Loved,” he said, “You feel loved.”

I hadn’t noticed that I’d started to cry, but it made sense. The only thing more painful than the vulnerability was the tenderness with which his thumb caught the tear against my cheek. He didn’t remove his hand, either. He kept it there, cradling my face and forcing me to watch the way he never stopped looking at me like I was the answer to everything.

“Am I wrong?” I asked.

“No, you’re not,” he whispered from just far enough away that I could feel his lips brush over mine. My lungs filled with a sharp breath that seemed necessary to stop my heart from failing under all the overwhelming emotion.

Spencer kissed me, not as a segue or preparation for heartbreak. He kissed me with his heart on his sleeve and desperate hands pulling me closer. Our faces both wet with tears that felt like rain following after a decade long drought.

He kissed me, and it felt like a miracle or a fantasy that I’d thought I would never be able to have.

When he stopped, it didn’t feel like a loss. It felt like a newfound understanding of love — of being with someone no matter how far away they might go.

But Spencer didn’t want to go anywhere. Not yet.

“So... can I stay here tonight?” he asked again, happy with his attempts to sweeten the pot enough to convince me to break at least one rule for now.

“Yes, please,” I said through a smile.

Some rules were just made to be broken.

(Tell me what you thought of this fic here!)

[scary-lasagna]

tw: there's a slur for humans but slendad saves the day

it's 2am and I have written too much once again.

For the 'House Bounce' (Part II)

"Good morning, inspector."

"Good morning, Sir Slender. How do you do today?"

"Fucking miserable now that you've passed the threshold," Is what Slender really wanted to say. But he didn't. Instead, he decided on biting his tongue for the time being.

While Slender made the inspector feel nice and cozy in the low illuminated hallway, all five proxies peeked their noses around the corner towards the new, black-dressed guest.

"Do you think he's gonna try to check our teeth again?" Toby pondered worriedly, tilting his weight to eye the large bag at Slenders shiny business shoes.

"God, I hope not. I had leftover mashed potatoes and chives for breakfast." The brunette squinted at the light fog radiating off of the man's bare skin, and noted the glowing yellow eyes.

"Clock, I really wish you'd eat real food."

"Well, I would if you assholes-"

"Shh! He's coming!" Masky had to forcefully front to capture everyone's attention, and on top of that, drag his co-workers to the middle of the lobby to stand in the perfect little line the inspectors adored so much. Masked and all.

But something's wrong.

Tim isn't resurfacing. Masky's stuck at the wheel.

"And here they are, all nice and tidy as usual." Slender offered an open palm towards the proxies, his lies smooth as the butter Clockwork ate with her potatoes earlier.

"Good morning, inspector." Brian nodded, followed by the others nodding in unison, even Masky who started to grind his teeth in annoyance.

"Good morning, my favorite little humans! How are we doing today?" The short shadowbeing set the bag down, and pulled out a clipboard from one of the open side pockets.

"Excited to get back to work! You know we're actually going to be doing scouting routines today?" Toby smiled beneath his mouth guard, habitually scratching his own gloves behind his back in hidden nervousness.

"Well, Tobias, that sounds awfully exciting! And being the main Scout, I'm guessing you'll be leading today?" The inspector scribbled mindlessly on the clipboard that looked much too large for his hands, glancing consistently between Toby and the paper.

Trick question. And luckily, reminding everyone that he's the only qualified Scout is his specialty at the dinner table. "Well...I did mention last time that I'm the only licensed Scout, so Tim will be leading this time."

Fuck.

Masky felt sweat start to bead under the mandatory mask. He never discussed it with Tim because there were no scouting routines today. Nor did he care, really.

Slender made it up, just like he made up the hunting shot routine for the last inspection. The routines are too dangerous for proxies of Slender, vulnerable humans that have targets on their heads 24/7.

"So, Tim, how will that go?"

Masky choked, glancing at the dull mask of Brian for support, then back to the inspector. Please don't notice the changing eyes. Please. "It'll go...uh...good, I believe. I've already planned the route and Qlavor's proxies will help us out with defense strategies and combat." The first ally to think of, and Masky chose the least trustworthy one? Amazing thinking, asshole. If he decided to fact-check, Slender will have his neck slit.

"Well, I do hope it goes good for you. You Fleshies are resilient to anything these days, huh?" The inspector laughed, glancing back towards Slender for approval at the crude joke.

"We do not use that word in the premises." Slender's tone was nothing short of sharp and dangerous. If he was close enough, Slender might have just bit his head off right there.

The inspector paused, his once lighthearted expression towards Slender fell slowly into a cold stare once he realize he wasn't joking. The silence between them held the weight of an anvil, heavy and thick to breathe in.

"I'll be checking the living quarters, then." The inspector did not wait for Slender, and instead invited himself past the proxies and up the stairs. Clock was the first to sigh in relief, half-thankful that the awkwardness cut the verbal inspection short.

As Slender passed Masky, he placed a hand on his shoulder that both said 'Stay calm' and 'Well done'.

"I forgot to open my curtains but I don't give a fuck." Kate tapped the top of her shoes on the polished floor.

"He'll tick off anything 1/2 inch out of place thanks to what just happened." Brian stretched, flexing his anxiety-filled muscles.

"We've been inside friendly territories so long that I forgot everyone hates people like us." Toby gladly shoved his twitching hands in his pockets. It was hard suppressing his tics, but medicine helped a little.

"This sucks ass. I hate being talked down to like I'm some fucking five-year-old that doesn't understand what a slur is."

"Hey, hey, hey, chill out tick-tock. You only got two hours of this left, you guys will get through it, alright?" Offender huffed and crossed his large arms as he approached the group of bummed-out proxies.

In fact, upon closer inspection, Offender could tell even with their masks on, that 'bummed-out' was an understatement.

"Sheesh, you all look depressing."

"Wouldn't you?" Kate, who was already fed up with standing, sat down on the main stairwell.

"I know I'm supposed to give you little shits a word of advice as your designated uncle, so here it is. Don't let that prick make you angry. I bet Slender's up there giving him all kinds of Hell for speaking to you like that, and-"

"I can't believe a high ranking such as yourself-!" A voice shrieked offendedly, growing louder as the inspector rounded the corner with Slender shortly behind. The bantering continued as the inspector kept stopping to shake a finger at Slender. Terribly close to biting ranger.

"Get out of my mansion, Doctor!"

Kate shuddered and quickly stood, nudging into Clock as she sought refuge from the very resentful slenderbeing.

The inspector hissed down the stairs, every foot missing contact with the surface as he floated over the wood quickly.

Slender stood at the top of the stairs with his hands clasped in front of his waist, his mouth entirely shredded and split open in anger and foiling towards this fool. Long, black-stained fangs poked from between the torn flesh of his predatory jaws. They were even in competition with the tendrils branched out and poised towards the short being.

He looked absolutely dangerous, a beast of authority.

"The problem does not lie within your proxies, Slender! They are orderly humans! It's you that is the problem! You monster of a creature!"

"Oh, it always is, isn't it? According to the media." Slender mumbled under a hiss and tilted his head in a mockery eye roll. "Have I not ordered you to leave!?"

"You'll be hearing from the Elders! Mark it!" The inspector backed up, bumping into Masky as he did so, who countered with a push.

Although, the inspector didn't seem to notice, for he still focused on threatening Slender, "You'll rue this behavior, my scorned friend! RUE IT!" The shadowbeing quickly flew out of the lobby and through the door, shuddering the mahogany wood as the fog settled on the doorway and dispersed.

Slender sighed, and cupped his browline in one hand as he massaged his temples with his middle and thumb finger. He disliked anger. Especially in front of others, others that are scared of him in that state, such as Kate.

"..Boss...are you okay?" Toby took a timid step forward. Slender peeked past his boney fingers towards the kind-hearted boy, and dragged his palm down his face, refreshing the torn wound into a smooth state once again.

"For now, I believe." He descended the stairs, carefully eyeing Kate, who's already pretending to act like a kitten with its fur puffed out. "Although, the Elders will be displeased with my actions, I'm sure of it."

"What does that mean for you? Or us?" Masky shucked off his mask, and attached it to the holder on his hip, breathing in the cool air of the lobby.

"It just means that they will send a letter, claiming they don't like that I do not share their views. Or that I wasn't happy about the inspector trying to kill Toby's fish."

"They what?! Which one?? Debra? Nemo?? Midnight???"

"The yellow beta."

"Ohhh, not poor little Tina..." Poor Toby sounded distraught at the possible traumatization of his fish friend. But thankfully, she wasn't hurt at least.

"What an asshole!"

"You're like a bajillion years old, you shouldn't be yelled at for defending us. That sucks ass!"

"It does, doesn't it?" Slender managed a light chuckle. "I suppose there's nothing I can do now."

"Well...I know something we can do."

____

"Hey! Clock, no shoes in the bouncy castle!"

"You're not seeing my socks for free, bitch!"

Slender was always puzzled by the conversations between his residents, he never quite understood the lingo. And fairly, he was much too old to keep up with the times fluently. And gave up trying to learn after Ben made him dab.

"Oh, cheer up, brother. Look, they got their bouncy cast- excuse me, 'house bounce', and you only got an angry letter from a bunch of old people without necks."

"Yes, and the Elders also deducted twenty grand from my Operator monthly pay."

"Holy shit."

"Indeed. Apparently, I traumatized him so badly he cannot enter any woodland areas now."

"Haha, that's nice. Serves the asshole right trying to come in here and talk down to them."

"Indeed." Slender was lost in thought by this point, and disinterested in his brother's praise. "I..I'm not sure what to do financially. I might even have to cut their pay, and it's my own fault."

"Aww, c'monnn, you can't worry about that now when that's month's away. We have backup money! And! If we run out, we can still sell Splendor to someone! He might not be a baby anymore, but someone's bound to buy him, probably."

Slender didn't reply, only busy counting the blades of grass like lame dollar signs. Offender wandered off past him, and shouting soon followed.

"Slender! Get your ass in the house bounce!"

"Slenderrr!"

"Slendy, get in the bounce houseee!!!!"

"Don't encourage him! He'll break a hip!"

Oh, the sacrifices he has made, and will continue to make, for these proxies are unimaginable.

But there is absolutely no chance he will step foot in that inflated house.

[drabbles-mc]

Lurking

Happy Lowman x F!Reader

Request by @est1887: I got a random request idea and of course no rush I feel like this would be perfect for my love Happy lol. idk I feel like maybe you’re coming home from a party or something and happy has been trying to get in contact with you and your phone died and you left you car charger at work and what you thought was your blankets on your bed or sofa idc which one is actually Happy sitting in the dark like the killer he is and he scared the life out of you when you hear your blankets talking but it’s actually him but obviously happy isn’t trying to scare the reader it’s perfectly normal to sit in the dark in someone else’s apartment that they don’t know he’s in lololol

Warnings: language, Happy being Happy lmao

Word Count: 896

A/N: A short but sweet Happy fic. I feel like this was a perfect scenario for him lmao. Hope you enjoy it! xo

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You popped your apartment door open with your hip. You were giggling quietly to yourself as you tucked your keys back into your purse, dropping the whole thing to the floor as soon as you were completely inside.

The apartment was silent, as it should’ve been at 2AM. You hummed to yourself as you made your way to the kitchen to get yourself a bottle of water and a few aspirin for the morning. Despite how dark your apartment was, and how buzzed you were still feeling, you could still navigate your place without having to turn on the lights. You bumped the fridge closed before leaning down to peel the high heels off your feet.

As you stood upright and made your way towards the bedroom, you saw something shift in the shadows on your couch. You froze, trying to focus your eyes on it in the dark. It wouldn’t be the first time that a pile of blankets and pillows threw you off. When you heard the creak of the floorboard under someone’s feet, you let out a scream as you whipped one of your heels in the general direction of the noise. You must have hit your target because you heard someone curse under their breath. That did little to comfort you, though, and you threw your second shoe harder than the first.

“Ow! Fuck, Jesus Christ, stop!” the person finally spoke up.

You’d been winding up to throw your water bottle, too, before you heard the voice. You stopped mid-scream and let your hand drop back down to your side, “H-Happy?” you reached and turned the light on.

Sure enough, there he was, standing there in the middle of your living room. There was a small cut on his forehead, presumably from when the heel of your shoe had caught him just right. His expression was one of disgruntled confusion. He traced his thumb along his forehead and looked at it for a moment before wiping the blood off on his jeans without comment.

He returned his full attention to you, “Where’ve you been?”

You couldn’t hide your confusion at the question, “What?”

He repeated himself, his tone still neutral, “Where’ve you been?”

You shook your head, “You’re not the one who gets to ask questions right now!”

His brows furrowed, “Why not?”

“Because you were lurking in my house like a goddamn intruder!”

“I’m not an intruder—you gave me a key.”

You sighed, looking up at the ceiling for a moment as you tried to muster up what little patience you lad left in the moment, “Why did you have to sit on my couch in the dark? Is there something extra appealing about looking like a burglar?”

He shook his head, “It wasn’t dark out when I got here.”

“When did you get here?!” it was hard to picture him just sitting in your apartment for hours, waiting for you to get home.

“You weren’t answering your phone.”

His response had nothing to do with the question. To be fair, that’s usually how things went between you. It took a while to get to the point sometimes. You tried to keep yourself in check, knowing that he was getting to the answer in his own roundabout way.

“Okay and?” you asked, “My battery died and I didn’t have my charger. How did that end with you sitting on my couch by yourself in the dark at 2 in the morning?”

“You weren’t answering your phone. I thought something happened to you. You weren’t working late so I came here looking for you.”

You pressed your lips into a thin line as you processed what he was saying. You knew that to him, it seemed like a perfectly logical chain of events. The creepiness of him sitting in your apartment in the dark was not something that his brain was able to register, especially if he had shown up nervously looking for you.

“I’m sorry you were so worried,” you pinched the bridge of your nose, “But why didn’t you turn the lights on?”

He shrugged, “I don’t know.”

It was an honest answer, and you couldn’t be mad at him for it. You walked closer to him, inspecting the small cut on his forehead before leaning against his chest, “I know I said you can make yourself at home even when I’m not here, but next time can you do it in a more obvious, less scary way?”

“Will you be better at remembering to charge your phone?”

You laughed as you draped your arms over his shoulders, fingers linking behind his neck, “I’ll work on it,” you paused, “Sorry about your head.”

“It’s fine,” he glanced over at your shoes on the ground, “They’re pretty good self-defense weapons.”

“Anything can be if you throw it hard enough,” you chuckled.

He smiled for a moment as his hands rested on your hips, “That’s my girl.”

A few seconds of silence passed between the two of you before you took a deep breath and rested your head against his chest, “Since you’ve already spent most of the night here, wanna come to bed with me?”

“Sure,” he let you tug him down the hall towards your bedroom, “I’ll make sure no one else gets in here.”

“Yea,” you laughed, “Can’t have more than one creep on my couch per night.”

[hongism]

1:58 am - c. jongho 18+

↣ pairing: jongho x fem!reader ↣ genre: fluff, smut ↣ wc: 2.0k ↣ for @ppersonna​​: “HELLO MY BESTIE RATTY PLS JONGHO WITH 25 - Being somewhere you’re not supposed to be 34 - “It’s 2am. Go back to sleep.” ↣ warnings: language, oral sex: f

In your defense, Jongho is both a maniac and insatiable. What started as a lovely movie night between the two of you, with his roommate Yeosang curled up in the armchair by the couch, has quickly devolved into leagues of stress for you and endless amusement for Jongho. Yeosang is (thankfully) off in dreamland and fast asleep despite the movie still going in the background, although that does nothing to quell your current nerves as Jongho’s hand is moving further up by the minute. 

It started at your kneecap, two fingers tracing mindless patterns into your skin under the blanket. Then he slipped to the inside of your knee and clutched tight at your flesh before pulling up the inside of your thigh.

Now, he has a hand basically over your crotch, close enough to make you sweat but far enough away to have you refraining from squeezing your thighs shut over his fingers.

And being a cocky little shit, of course Jongho knows exactly what he’s doing to you — if the smirk curling over his lips is any indication at least. You aren’t about to scar yourself or Yeosang by fooling around on the already stained leather couch in their apartment, as much as you really want to give in to his lingering touches.

You haven’t been paying attention to the movie on the screen for at least an hour, maybe longer than that because you don’t even recall the name of the damn film at this point, and all your focus is honed in on the fingers pressing into your thigh. Jongho won’t stop teasing with his touches either. Every few seconds, he squeezes just enough to startle you into sitting up straight just when you’ve recovered from the last touch. You’re certain he’s trying to seem interested in the movie given the way he keeps making interested noises or scowling at the screen, but then his smirk returns and you know what he’s really up to.

In short, you have had more than enough of his fun and games, growing increasingly frustrated with each passing second. Your body is so pent up and overheated that sweat is pooling at your brow, and that’s what makes you nudge his hand away as a last-ditch effort to save yourself from this teasing hell he’s trapped you in. Yet this isn’t your apartment and you can’t very well escape to his bedroom without looking suspicious to Yeosang. As far as his roommate is concerned, you and Jongho are still just friends, even if there is an ungodly amount of sexual tension lingering between the two of you like this.

Water. Yes, you need water. And where can you get water? The kitchen of course. Perfect plan. You should be safe from Jongho’s antics there, no?

“Feeling alright, Y/n?”

As it turns out, you are very much not safe in the kitchen.

You nearly throw the glass in your hand at Jongho’s head out of sheer shock when he sneaks up on you, creeping into the kitchen behind you like a damn ghost. You manage to hold back from doing that, but a small yelp escapes your lips instead. Jongho laughs at that, continuing to chuckle under his breath even when you try to level him with a sharp glare. He has the audacity to look absolutely delectable at nearly two o’clock in the morning wearing nothing but a stupid black t-shirt and stupid grey sweatpants with his stupid hands shoved deep in the pockets like he wasn’t trying to practically finger you on the couch moments ago.

“I don’t know, am I?” It made sense in your head, although that might be because of the haze of arousal over your brain because once it actually comes out, you’re wondering why the hell you said that.

“Well, you felt more than alright just a few minutes ago.” He’s smiling again, another lascivious grin that has you sinking your teeth into your lower lip.

“Not here,” you hiss back as a last-ditch effort to talk yourself out of this (again).

“Because Yeosang is in the other room? Come on, Y/n, you know half the fun is in the risk of getting caught.”

A scoff passes through your lips, loud enough to resound through the small kitchen.

“You’re insatiable.”

“And you’re painfully aroused. Are we done stating the obvious?”

Throwing this glass at his head is a lot more tempting now, but that would certainly cause a ruckus and Yeosang would wake up in a heartbeat.

“Only because you were fucking feeling me up on the couch like it’s your goddamn job!”

Jongho crosses the kitchen in three seconds flat, suddenly so close to you that you can’t breathe your own air without feeling the heat of his breath against your lips. You stumble back and hit the edge of the counter behind you. Jongho doesn’t give you a moment to recover, catching your wrists in his grip and pressing them hard against the surface of that same counter.

“Careful there, doll, you wouldn’t want to wake anyone up, would you?”

“No, that’s not what I want,” you exhale. It’s not enough to quell the desire in your gut, especially not when Jongho’s fucking thigh is pressed between your legs and leaving you squirming. He knows how you feel about his thighs thanks to an unfortunate admission on your part one night when you had too much alcohol (and unfortunately Yeosang knows too since he was an unwilling participant in that conversation).

“What do you want then? Although, I’m fairly certain that I know.” Again, Jongho’s gaze flicks down over your body, enough to be obvious about the way he’s checking you out from head to toe, but he returns to staring you in the eye after a second.

“Shut up and eat me out already,” you hiss under your breath. In the same sentence, you free your wrists of his grasp and push down hard on his shoulders. It’s nothing compared to his strength — he’s more than strong enough to resist your futile efforts, but he goes along with it anyway and lets you push him to his knees in front of the counter.

“You’re lucky I never make you beg, baby. If I did, you’d never get to cum.”

Tempting, you think, but right now you aren’t in the mood to be edged or teased anymore. Jongho did his fair share of that for over two hours, so all that is on your mind is a release under his skilled tongue.

“Please, Jongho, I’d like to do this before Yeosang wakes up…”

His hands are already curled around your pajama shorts, taking the soft fabric into his grip and pulling down with no resistance. A sharp inhale follows as the cold air hits your nether regions, and Jongho lifts one of your legs up to his shoulder as he bunches your shorts into the palm of his hand.

“Be glad I didn’t take you on the couch right in front of him then.”

Then Jongho is smiling up at you from between your legs, and you would be lying if you said that isn’t one of the hottest things you’ve ever seen in your life. You brace yourself on the counter, knuckles white from the effort of clinging to the marble, and the man beneath you takes his teasing a step further. Soft lips caress the inside of your knee over the spot he clung to for the better part of an hour, then he follows the same path his hand took as well. He doesn’t stop until his nose is flush with your folds, and even then he exhales against you in a way that has a chill rushing down your spine. Your curl away from the counter, unintentionally pressing your hips closer to his mouth in the same fluid motion. It’s enough to make his nose hit your clit dead-on in a way that has a strangled moan escaping your lips. You fling a hand up to your mouth (too late as it does absolutely nothing to conceal the sound).

“Now it sounds like you’re trying to wake Yeosang up, doll.”

“I’d like to see you stay quiet when I’m sucking you off next time.” You manage to smirk a little, just enough to be playful and throw him off a little. He’s just as quick to retaliate, which is both a good and bad thing for you because his next move is to hoist your other leg onto his shoulder, and it takes every ounce of your willpower not to clamp your thighs around his face. You have to bite the side of your thumb to quell the noises bubbling up your throat; your remark seems to have been enough to spur him fully into action, his tongue brushing between your folds until he reaches your hole with practiced ease. You can’t count on one hand how many times you’ve indulged in this — his tongue pressing at your entrance like he has no other purpose in life, eating you out with more enthusiasm than ever, drawing so many noises out of you that it’s getting difficult to keep quiet.

“Jongho?”

The man between your legs freezes but doesn’t move away from your cunt, staring up at you from between your legs without blinking for so long that you think he’s truly stuck like that. Admittedly, you’re stuck where you are too, both because he’s got your legs around his face and on account of Yeosang’s sudden intrusion on your otherwise intimate moment. Your gaze goes straight to the archway to the kitchen. The kitchen island is tall enough to block the view of your lower half, but if Yeosang steps even one more foot into the room, he will certainly see what Jongho is up to. There’s no telling how long it’ll be before he does enter, and you’re watching with peaked anxiety as Jongho sidles up your body into a standing position again.

His hands find your hips, and next thing you know, he’s moving you around and pushing you until your back hits the kitchen island. It protects you from possible exposure to Yeosang, which proves to be a good move on his part because Yeosang pokes his head in the archway a second later. Jongho moves to the side enough to avoid suspicion but you’re still quite nude from the waist down and screwed if Yeosang decides to come further in.

“Oh, there you two are. The movie’s over?” Yeosang says, easing his weight against the doorframe.

“Yeah, you fell asleep pretty early on honestly. But it’s 2 am. Go back to sleep. We’re just picking up some snacks we pulled out while you were asleep.”

You think that excuse is far too easy to see through, especially if Yeosang decides to even so much as glance around the kitchen to see that you are certainly not doing any cleaning whatsoever. You squeeze your eyes shut. Looking at Yeosang right now would be a mistake and you would probably give away what you and Jongho have been up to in the blink of an eye.

“Yeah, yeah, okay. I’m too sleepy to help you anyway. See you in the morning.” Yeosang stifles a yawn, lifting the back of his hand to his mouth, then lets his arms fall into a stretch. He lingers for only one more second before disappearing from the archway. You exhale the second he disappears, shifting to stare Jongho down as your heart continues to race rampantly in your chest without relent.

“That was a fucking mood killer,” you mutter before crossing your arms over your chest. Jongho huffs out a sigh and puffs his cheeks full of air. He stretches a hand out to touch your bare hip again.

“Let me make it up to you?”